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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27451027">The Nightmare beyond the song</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Wanderer/pseuds/Star_Wanderer'>Star_Wanderer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nightmares and songs [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Case Fic, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Season/Series 12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:40:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27451027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Wanderer/pseuds/Star_Wanderer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An unusual murder has Sam and Dean traveling to a music festival. They will face something they have never encountered before - something that might change the way they see things. New allies will be made and there will be new foes to be fought. Case-fic, first part of a series.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Nightmares and songs [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First time posting on this site. I hope you enjoy! The story is finished and I will be posting chapters pretty regularly (it's already posted on fanfiction.net). Small warning for some allusion to gory stuff, but nothing worse than in the show. If you're watching that, you should be fine.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Brad pushed his bike down the street, keeping a discrete distance from his quarry. He was whistling as he walked, still pumped up after his encounter. He couldn’t wait to tell his friends the next day. After all, they had all told him he wouldn’t be able to just walk up to her and ask for an autograph. They said he’d stutter so much, he wouldn’t be able to even say hello. Well, that just went to show they didn’t know him at all.</p><p>It was getting dark. Brad knew it was late and he should probably head home. After all, he was still in moderate hot water with his folks after conveniently forgetting to tell them about that failed Chemistry test. He was lucky enough to be allowed to go to the concert. He suspected Ken had something to do with that. Sometimes, having a big brother who was the family’s golden child came with benefits. Not always, but sometimes.</p><p>His phone rang and Brad chuckled, shaking his head.</p><p>“Speak of the devil,” he muttered before picking up. “Hey, dude, you’re not going to believe this…”</p><p>His brother’s voice came out clipped and angry:</p><p>“Brad, where the hell are you? You should’ve been here half an hour ago, man. Dinner with Aunt Clarice, remember? She wants to see the whole family, and I’m running out of excuses.”</p><p>Brad cursed. He had forgotten the hag was coming to dinner that night. Why they had to play happy families when she was around was beyond Brad. He suspected it had something to do with the nifty pile of cash she had promised would go to Dad if he stopped being a cheating scumbag and showed he could be there for his family. Brad was tired of playing the part of grateful son whenever she was around.</p><p>“Look, I’ll be there, I just went by the hotel, you know? Where the bands playing at the festival are staying. I hung around for a while…and dude, I met Helmi. She gave me an autograph, can you believe it? Helmi actually talked to me.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>Brad rolled his eyes.</p><p>“Helmi Jokinen, man. Lead vocalist of Apostles of Shadow? She gave me an autograph and she flashed that sweet smile my way. I think we had something going on, you know?”</p><p>There was a brief silence. Brad pictured Ken counting to ten in his mind.</p><p>“Isn’t she married to that drummer from that Polish band?”</p><p>Brad rolled his eyes. He had to give Ken points for trying to sound interested.</p><p>“Norwegian, actually,” he corrected. “So?”</p><p>“So, if she’s married to some badass drummer, why would she share a moment with the likes of you? Not to mention that little uncomfortable detail about how you’re underage and all…”</p><p>Brad was in no mood to be reasonable. His target had just crossed the street and entered a small diner. Brad had passed it a few times, but he had never gone inside.</p><p>“Pancakes,” he said. “She likes pancakes. She went into Hal’s Diner, that’s the one with the pancakes, right?”</p><p>This time, the silence at the other end held more than exasperation.</p><p>“Brad,” Ken began cautiously. “Are you stalking Helmi Jokinen?”</p><p>Brad had stopped on the other side of the street, wondering if he should go in.</p><p>“What do you mean stalking? I just saw her leave the hotel, I was curious to see where she was going all alone…”</p><p>“Dude, no!” Brad’s voice now held a tight edge to it. “You don’t follow people you don’t know all over the town. You especially don’t follow women you don’t know after dark. Now get your ass back home before I have to bail you from the police station. You can kiss the Apostles of Shadow concert good-bye then. If you get arrested, nothing I say is going to convince Mom to let you out of your room before you graduate high school.”</p><p>Brad was no longer listening. He had spotted something further down the road. Lights glittering in a strange pattern. </p><p>“The light. It’s like a puzzle,” he muttered.</p><p>He ignored his brother and stepped towards the lights, suddenly drawn by something he could not understand. At first, he thought the alley was empty. Then he spotted him. He was a tall man dressed in dark clothes, handsome, like a character from the Gothic romances Brad’s ex-girlfriend used to read. He turned towards Brad and there was something disapproving in his eyes. Brad gulped.</p><p>“Look, man, if this is about the girl, I swear I wasn’t actually following her. Or, I was, but I swear I was just curious to see where she was going…”</p><p>He backed away when he saw the man change into something else. He stared at the thing in horror. It reached out clawed hands towards him. Brad could not move. From far away, he heard his brother calling his name on the phone. It was the last thing he would ever hear.</p><p>xxxxXXXXXxxxxx</p><p>Dean sauntered into the Bunker’s library. Sam was, unsurprisingly, already there. Sam was always an early riser – if he had gone to sleep at all the night before. But no, he remembered Sam retreating for the night shortly before him. A better look showed his brother nursing a mug of coffee. Another mug was placed on the table, opposite him. Dean made straight for it. </p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>Sam looked up briefly from his laptop.</p><p>“Yeah, good morning. It’s still hot. I only just woke up myself.”</p><p>Dean nodded, taking a sip, pleased to discover it was as strong as he liked it. Sam might disagree with his habits and call them unhealthy, but there were times when he indulged Dean out of the blue. “Just because”, as he had mumbled once when Dean had asked him. He had sounded uncertain, slightly afraid Dean would tease him for acting like a girl. Dean, for once, had decided to let it go and just be grateful.</p><p>“Cass not back yet?”</p><p>Sam shrugged.</p><p>“He said he’d be here by tomorrow morning, probably.” He seemed to hesitate slightly, then went on, speaking faster than before: “What about Mom? Did she check in at all?”</p><p>Dean frowned. He was so thrilled whenever he got a message from their mother, he sometimes forgot Sam did not get the same treatment. He honestly did not understand why Mary insisted on having minimal contact with Sam – she had gotten over the initial awkwardness with Dean, after all, and the only thing Sam was asking was for a bit of acknowledgement now and then. Dean sometimes thought of telling Mary that. He always stopped, afraid it might anger her too much. Afraid that he would lose even the sporadic contact they had now.</p><p>“Yeah, she was saying something about some leads with another Hunter. Said she’d call if she needs some extra hands.”</p><p>Sam nodded distractedly, not looking up from his laptop screen. Of course, since this was Sam, it could either be because he was really interested in what he was reading, or he was in avoidance mode. Dean decided to figure out which it was this time.</p><p>“So…uh…what are you reading there?”</p><p>“It’s a case – I think. In Gatlinburg Tennessee. At the first edition of a symphonic metal festival.”</p><p>Dean raised his eyebrows.</p><p>“A what now?”</p><p>Sam smiled, partly to show his amusement, partly in that I-know-something-you-don’t annoying little brother sort of way.</p><p>“Symphonic metal. It’s quite popular in Europe and Latin America, apparently. It combines heavy drums and guitars with classical music – like an orchestra for example. They often have female vocalists who can go full operatic.”</p><p>Dean snorted.</p><p>“Oh, come on, man. Metal is supposed to be badass. How can you get badass with opera?”</p><p>If possible, Sam looked even more amused.</p><p>“I don’t know, Dean” he drawled. “I would say a chick in leather headbanging to guitars and then immediately bringing out high notes like she doesn’t need to breathe sounds pretty badass.”</p><p>Dean took another sip of his coffee trying to picture Sam’s words in his mind.</p><p>“No, you’re right. That sounds kinda hot.”</p><p>Sam grinned. Two smiles in one day and it was still early, Dean thought. He was on a roll. If he managed to put several more smiles on Sammy’s face, he’d consider his job done for the day. He cleared his throat, glad Sam was not a mind reader, otherwise he would accuse Dean of being a major sap.</p><p>“So, case?”</p><p>Sam nodded, pushing the laptop towards Dean.</p><p>“Sixteen-year-old Brad Sniders was found dead in an alley last night. His throat was sliced open and his eyes were missing. Well, actually, they weren’t missing, they were in his hand.”</p><p>Dean flinched. That was a whole new level of weird even for them.</p><p>“Any witnesses?”</p><p>“Yes and no,” Sam replied. “Brad was on the phone with his older brother. Apparently, he was missing some family function and his brother had called to get him to come home. At some point Brad stopped responding and mentioned something about lights and a puzzle.”</p><p>Dean finished his coffee and pushed his mug back.</p><p>“I’d like to hear more about that.”</p><p>Sam nodded.</p><p>“So would I. Also, I’ve looked over the brother’s account to the police. Something doesn’t add up. He doesn’t say why Brad was late to that family thing, or why he was in that alley in the first place. It’s pretty far from his house.”</p><p>“You’re thinking big brother was covering up for Brad,” Dean deduced, then shook his head. “Hey, remember when I told Dad you were somewhere practicing your shooting skills while you were actually off with some chick from school. I think you were sixteen too at the time. You still didn’t tell me what happened between you two.”</p><p>Sam sent him a scathing look.</p><p>“That’s because nothing happened – not what you think happened at least. I’m not you. We just went to the planetarium. To watch a meteor shower.”</p><p>Dean snorted, shaking his head in mock disappointment.</p><p>“I lied to Dad for a geek who went to watch some rocks falling from the sky. Damn, that’s disappointing. Probably Brad had a more fun reason for being out, though. We’ve got about eleven-hour drive. We should get going.”</p><p>Dean half-expected Sam to suggest they call Mom and ask her to join them. He was secretly glad when Sam did no such thing.</p><p>xxxXXXXxxxxx</p><p>It was late at night when Dean finally pulled in front of a motel in Gatlinburg. He booked a room and shook Sam awake.</p><p>“Bedtime,” he said in answer to Sam’s dazed look. “We’ll start looking into stuff first thing tomorrow.”</p><p>Once in the room, Sam went back to sleep quickly enough. Dean was actually relieved. What with Lucifer and their time in prison and all the crap before that with that chick from the British Men of Letters, Sam had been in hypervigilance mode. Barely sleeping, obsessively looking for cases. Dean got it, but he also knew that Sam needed to rest. It was harder in the Bunker where they had separate rooms. Here, though, Dean could monitor exactly how much sleep Sam was getting.</p><p>Dean walked to the window. He could not see much outside. Somewhere up ahead was the stage where the festival would take place. They had driven by it on their way to the motel. Dean blinked. He thought he saw lights flickering there. It could have been some technicians making sure everything was fine with the lighting. It was quite late, though, and Dean could not forget what Sam had said, that Brad had apparently mentioned lights and a puzzle right before he died.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Sniders lived in a two-storey house with a well-kept front yard. The inside of the house was elegant but without any personality, artificial, as if it had been taken from some fancy catalogue. Brad Sniders’ family looked out of place there. The mother was sitting on the couch, comforted by an elderly woman whose disapproving looks showed she had a lot of opinions about today’s generation, who had the gall to get murdered in dark alleys instead of attending her dinner parties. The father had rushed in ten minutes after Sam and Dean had arrived at the house, muttering something about how difficult it was to get time off in his business, even under tragic circumstances. Dean caught the whiff of perfume on his clothes and figured it had not been only time off he was getting. </p>
<p>A Golden Retriever – Brad’s, apparently – was walking around the room aimlessly, sniffing at the doors, unable to comprehend why the person who walked him and fed him and gave him love and attention was no longer there. Sam bent down to scratch the dog between the ears, which earned him a half-hearted wag.</p>
<p>Eighteen-year-old Ken Sniders looked lost, like he was not really there. He looked like someone who had heard his kid brother being murdered while he was halfway across the town and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Dean and Sam both knew it would take a very long time for Ken to get over that guilt – if he ever did.</p>
<p>Sam and Dean had no trouble securing an interview with Ken. The family was too dazed to wonder why the FBI was suddenly asking questions, and, anyway, a body with its eyes in its hands was probably thought to warrant more attention than that of the average cops. Ken did not object to talking to them alone, either. Apparently, he was not too keen on having his parents in the room with him. Grief did funny things to families. It either united them, or it pulled them completely apart.</p>
<p>“So, we understand you were actually on the phone with your brother last night?” Sam began, using that soft patient tone that usually put witnesses at ease. “What exactly happened?”</p>
<p>Ken shrugged, clenching and unclenching his fists. He was not looking at the two.</p>
<p>“I mean, I went through this with the cops. It was normal. Everything was…normal. Until it wasn’t.”</p>
<p>Sam nodded sympathetically.</p>
<p>“We know you already talked to the police. And we know it’s really hard to keep talking about this. But…we need to know more, Ken. How was Brad’s mood when you called him? Was he nervous? Scared? Angry?”</p>
<p>Ken snorted softly.</p>
<p>“Quite the opposite, actually. He was happy. Elated. He…uhhh…he was going to the festival, you know. And he’d just gotten an autograph from Helmi Jokinen. That’s the lead singer of the band that’s headlining the festival. Apostles of Shadow, they’re from Finland, I think. Brad has…had an enormous crush on her. You know…the kind that’s both embarrassing and a bit endearing? Anyway, he ran into her outside her hotel. He was probably dropping off something there. You know Brad worked part time for one of those delivery companies. Mom said it was to teach him responsibility.”</p>
<p>Sam leaned forward.</p>
<p>“Ken, your brother was nowhere near a hotel when he was found. Had he gone somewhere else? Was he picking up a delivery from somewhere?”</p>
<p>Ken fidgeted. His hesitation was obvious. He looked ready to put a stop to the interrogation, when Dean interfered.</p>
<p>“Look, I get it, you’re trying to cover for your kid brother. Trust me, no one gets that better than me. But you’re not doing Brad any favors by hiding things now. You want that son of a bitch who did this to him to pay, right? Then you’ve gotta be upfront with us, man.”</p>
<p>Ken’s eyes were still on the floor. He shook his head.</p>
<p>“Look, you have to understand, Brad was not the most socially-aware guy. He was…he could do stupid things, you know. And, I’m sure that’s all there was this time. Just a dumb decision. When I called him, he…well, he was curious to see how Helmi Jokinen was using her free time in Gatlinburg.”</p>
<p>Sam raised his eyebrows.</p>
<p>“He was stalking her,” he clarified.</p>
<p>Ken shook his head quickly.</p>
<p>“Look, like I said, Brad could do stupid things, but he never had any dark intentions. And I did tell him to haul ass before she called the cops on him for being a creep. That’s when things got weird. He mentioned the lights and….and he started talking to someone. Telling them he wasn’t as pervy as he looked. I…I didn’t tell this to the police, because it would have meant admitting Brad was following Helmi.”</p>
<p>Dean waved that aside.</p>
<p>“We’ll deal with you withholding information later. Now, this person he was talking to – man or woman?”</p>
<p>Ken shrugged.</p>
<p>“They never said anything. And then…” He paused and swallowed harshly, looking like he was either about to burst into tears or be violently sick. “And then he screamed…and…God, he sounded so afraid. He was only sixteen and he shouldn’t have sounded so afraid.”</p>
<p>Dean cleared his throat, Ken’s sorrow too close to what he himself had felt way too many times. Sam must have felt the same way. He seemed eager to get out of there as fast as he could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxx</p>
<p>Once safely outside the house, Sam and Dean proceeded to go over what they had so far.</p>
<p>“So, Brad was out being a bit of a creep,” Dean commented. “Unintentionally, of course.”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Sam said thoughtfully. “That could explain the eyes in his hand, though. Something along the lines of you shouldn’t have been going after her, you did it with your hands.”</p>
<p>“Huh,” Dean said thoughtfully as he stopped in front of the Impala. “I mean if just looking at a pretty lady gets you mutilated…”</p>
<p>“Then you should be very careful where your eyes wander while we’re here, Dean,” Sam deadpanned. “It still doesn’t tell me much about what attacked Brad, but there might be a motive. I think checking the alley where Brad died might help.”</p>
<p>“You do that,” Dean said. “I’m going to speak to Helmi whatshername…”</p>
<p>“Jokinen,” Sam said quickly, his lips quirking upwards in his usual sign of amusement. “With a Y. J in Finnish is usually pronounced as a y.”</p>
<p>Dean stared at him.</p>
<p>“Why in the world would you need to know that, Sammy?”</p>
<p>Sam shrugged.</p>
<p>“You get a lot of time on your hands when you can’t sleep most nights.”</p>
<p>Dean’s smile faded. This was the closest Sam usually got to admitting he had problems. Not that Dean did not have his own share of sleepless nights. But Sam sometimes took things to the extreme. Sam took everything to the extreme.</p>
<p>“We’ll deal with that later,” Dean decided. “Come on, I’ll drop you off on the way to the hotel.”</p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p>Helmi Jokinen wasn’t at the hotel, though. Dean had to drive all the way to the outskirts of town, where the stage had been set up for the festival. Apparently, Helmi was there with the rest of her band checking equipment and rehearsing. As Dean drove, he remembered the lights he had seen the night before. He had gone to sleep planning to tell Sam about them first thing next morning. He had changed his mind when he had woken up. He had been half-asleep when he saw the lights, he reasoned. Besides, he could not be sure if they did not have a natural explanation after all.</p>
<p>He found Helmi Jokinen talking to a guy whose long hair rivaled even Sam’s – presumably one of her fellow bandmates. Dean flashed his badge which got him some surprised looks, but it was more curiosity than panic. He supposed being accosted by the FBI might have sounded like an interesting experience rather than something to worry about. Helmi agreed to talk to him and led him further away, where they could have some privacy.</p>
<p>She was as tall as Sam, Dean noticed with some amusement, dark-haired, with a confidence that was not overbearing. She glanced at Dean’s badge again and her lips quirked up.</p>
<p>“Agent Blackmore? Really?”</p>
<p>Dean flashed her his most disarming smile.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know, I know. Whatever references you need to make, believe me, I’ve heard them all by now.” He took out his phone and clicked on the picture of Brad Sniders he had asked Ken to send to him. “Does he look familiar?”</p>
<p>Helmi frowned. She made to shake her head, then thought better of it.</p>
<p>“Wait, I do know him. He was hanging around the hotel two days ago. Cornered me for an autograph.” She paused and smiled. “He was sweet, actually, all stuttering and flustered. He’s not in some kind of trouble, is he?”</p>
<p>“He’s dead,” Dean stated bluntly. “And he was apparently killed while following you right after you gave him that autograph. Were you aware of that?”</p>
<p>Helmi drew a step back shaking her head.</p>
<p>“What do you mean dead? While he was following me? My God…no, of course I didn’t know. Following me where?”</p>
<p>Dean pocketed his phone watching Helmi carefully.</p>
<p>“He was killed somewhere close to Hal’s Diner while you were inside. Why were you there, by the way? I mean, without your bandmates, that’s a little weird.”</p>
<p>Helmi scoffed.</p>
<p>“Agent, Apostles of Shadow have been touring the US for three weeks. That’s three weeks stuck together in the same bus. I love the guys, I really do, they’re like family. But you must know how it gets sometimes when family is stuck together at close quarters for too long. Let’s just say you either come up with very creative ways to commit murder, or you try to find a moment to yourself when you can. You get me?”</p>
<p>Dean smirked. He got her more than she could possibly know. </p>
<p>“So, while you were out there,” he went on, proceeding with his standard questioning. “Have you noticed anything weird? Like cold spots, strange smells…?”</p>
<p>Helmi’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.</p>
<p>“What kind of questions are you asking, Agent?”</p>
<p>Dean raised his hands, trying his best to look non-threatening and relaxed.</p>
<p>“Just routine. We’ve got to cover all the bases. You understand.”</p>
<p>Helmi still did not look convinced that he was covering any bases by asking her about cold spots, but she seemed to decide not to comment on that anymore.</p>
<p>“There was something,” she admitted. “When I came out of the diner, I thought I heard this strange sound. Like hooves. Not horse hooves, though. Something else.” She paused and shuddered. “It gave me the chills. It reminded me of something my grandmother used to say. Well, but you probably don’t want to hear about that.”</p>
<p>“Try me,” Dean said quickly.</p>
<p>Something my grandmother would say was the kind of thing that usually brought them the best leads.</p>
<p>“Well,” Helmi went on. “My grandmother grew up in this village in the North of Finland. She told me something about a guy who was courting her – he apparently was challenged to a riddle contest by the devil. He showed up as a very handsome man but with hooves instead of feet.”</p>
<p>Since Dean knew a thing or two about Lucifer, he was sure hooves were not exactly his style. But that did not mean there had not been some truth in the story.</p>
<p>“Finland has a rich pre-Christian folklore,” Helmi added. “When Christianity came, all our creatures became “the devil” or at least working for him. Some of them were considered quite nice before that, too. Or, at least, able to deliver justice in their own twisted way.”</p>
<p>Sam was going to love all this, Dean thought. Sammy was going to be all over this. Dean could picture the look on his face when he heard about Finnish folklore. Sam had always loved research just for the sake of it.</p>
<p>He gave Helmi his card, urging her to call if she thought of anything else. Dean was convinced whatever it was it had to do with Helmi or someone else from her crew, even if they were not aware or directly responsible. </p>
<p>As Dean headed to the car, he shot Sam a text: Riddles &amp; hooves mean anything to you? Meet me at Hal’s Diner asap. This case was probably going to be more complicated than they had thought, but Dean had to admit, he was actually enjoying the puzzles. As long as no one else was harmed.</p>
<p>xxxXXXXXxxxxx</p>
<p>Sam walked up and down the alley, EMF meter in hand. There was nothing that registered as weird. He had talked to a few of the residents and the vendors still opened at the time – including the guy at Hal’s Diner – whose name, disappointingly, wasn’t Hal. Sam got nothing but a few skeptical looks, some unhelpful tips about teenagers sneaking in the forest to make out, and a proposition from a bored fifty-year-old housewife. The last he was definitely not telling Dean about, he did not want to give his brother any more ammunition than he already had.</p>
<p>Back in the alley, close to where the body was found, Sam bent down to have a better look at the place. Something caught his eye then. Something in the dirt that should not have been there. Two prints – they looked like some kind of hooves, next to where Brad Sniders had been killed.</p>
<p>“What the hell?” Sam muttered.</p>
<p>He searched in his pocket for his phone to take a picture when he froze. Years of trained instincts told him he was no longer alone. He turned his head to look further down the alley, but he could see nothing. He was ready to relax and dismiss the feeling as just him being on edge when something pounced on him from behind. The impact sent him crashing to the ground.</p>
<p>Sam struggled with whatever it was. He could not even get a good look at it, it moved so fast. Hands grabbed at his throat, while he tried to move away or at least get out the vulnerable position he was in. He managed to pull his attacker off him briefly, when something cracked him on the head. Sam heard the muffled sound of his cell phone. His last conscious thought was that Dean was going to be extremely pissed. He never liked it when Sam didn’t answer his phone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm not from Finland, but I've been there several times. I got some stories about creepy stuff there, which I researched further for this story. Apologies if there is any misrepresentation. Same goes with anyone living in Gatlinburg as I'm not from the US and have never been there. (I chose the town for relatively low population and location near the woods/mountains). The character of Helmi Jokinen is loosely based on Dutch singer Floor Jansen, current vocalist in the Finnish band Nightwish.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Awareness was slow in coming. For a long time – or, at least, what seemed like a long time to him – Sam had no idea where he was. He had only vague ideas of <em>who</em> he was, too, only that his head felt like somebody was banging a sledgehammer against it, and that meant something was wrong. He was lying down somewhere, that was his next thought, only, that was wrong too. He had vague recollections of being in an alley, but this did not feel like an alley. There was soft earth under his hands instead of the hard stone of the sidewalk and that unmistakable grassy smell was in his nostrils. He couldn’t hear any cars around him, either. Just birds and insects.</p><p> </p><p>Sam managed to lift his head, blinking dazedly in the thin shafts of sunlight making their way through the tree branches. Wait…tree branches? Those shouldn’t have been there. In fact, Sam shouldn’t have been there. He was in a forest, that much he could finally determine, and he had absolutely no idea how he had gotten there.</p><p> </p><p>Panic swept over him. He never liked it when he woke up like this, disoriented, not knowing where he was – not knowing where <em>Dean </em>was. It reminded him of too many other instances when he had no idea what was real or not, of Hell, of the time with Toni Bevell, of a lot of things he tried to bury but were always there in the back of his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Sam struggled to get a hold of himself. He had to do what he always did. Burry the fear and find a solution. That was the only way one stayed alive in his business. He needed to get out of the forest and back to Dean. That much was certain. That was step one.</p><p> </p><p>He staggered upwards, leaning heavily against the tree. For a while, he fought with the dizziness. He checked his phone and snorted. No signal. Of course. Why would there be? There was nothing for it, then. He had to find his own way out of this. After all, he had found his way out of more dire situations when he had been much worse. He could do this.</p><p> </p><p>Sam began his steady walk towards what he hoped was the way out of the forest. He could not shake off the feeling of being watched, of something trailing him and following his progress. He turned around several times but there was nothing behind him. Only trees and silence.</p><p> </p><p>                       <strong>xxxXXXXXXXxx</strong></p><p>
  
</p><p>Dean was seriously considering buying Sam one of those T-shirts with <em>If found, please return to Dean Winchester</em>. That would decrease at least 89% of his worries. The only problem was, Sam would refuse to wear it. The phone tracker should have worked, only for some reason it wasn’t on. Dean wondered briefly if Sam had not disabled it himself, then dismissed the idea. The two of them were good, and Sam was fine. Not keeping any secrets, not riding any crazy trains – at least, Dean hoped he wasn’t, there had been a lot of things keen on reminding Sam of past trauma. But no, there had to be other reasons why the phone tracker was not working. Maybe Dean should make things simpler and just put a tracker in Sam next time. One of those chips you used on dogs to prevent them from getting lost. That would work, wouldn’t it?</p><p> </p><p>Dean resumed his pacing of the room, frustrated with the current situation. Sam had not been there when he arrived at Hal’s Diner, although he should have finished going through the alley by then. After ten minutes of impatient waiting and one <em>Dude, where are you? </em>message to Sam, Dean headed for the alley himself. He could not find anything there – no Sam, no traces he had ever been there, no traces of anything untoward at all. His next move was to comb the neighborhood for witnesses. People remembered Sam all right – but they had no idea where he had gone after talking to them.</p><p> </p><p>Next came the panicked phone calls. Dean figured Sam probably had about thirty missed calls from him in the last hour alone. Finally, because he was really out of options, Dean doubled back to the motel. He had a fleeting hope that Sam had not gotten his first message and had headed back to their room instead, but that died as soon as Dean was inside. It was clear no one had been in the room since the two of them had left that morning.</p><p> </p><p>Dean looked at his phone and debated calling their mother. Surely she would want to know Sam was missing? But maybe it was a bit premature to make that phone call. Dean wouldn’t want to worry her needlessly. More than that, he did not want to find out that she actually <em>wasn’t </em>worried and would tell Dean something along the lines of Sam being an adult and able to take care of himself. Mary did not know Sam as well as Dean did.</p><p> </p><p>He was on his own with finding Sam, then. He switched on Sam’s laptop thinking about searching some maps of the area to figure out where Sam had been taken to. Of course, if they were dealing with their kind of weird, Sam could have been blasted to the opposite side of the world. But Dean decided not to borrow trouble. Whatever they were dealing with was in Gatlinburg. So Sam had to be still in town, or at least close to it. He had to be alive, too. If that thing, it would have left his body somewhere people would find it quickly.</p><p> </p><p>Like Brad Sniders, a treacherous voice in his head said. Dean clenched his teeth and told himself to get a grip. He would not be finding Sam like that. He would see the world burn before it happened.</p><p> </p><p>                             <strong>xxxXXxxxx</strong></p><p>
  
</p><p>Sam had been walking for what felt like hours. It didn’t make sense. He was still dizzy and slow, but he couldn’t have been that slow. Either he had been transported to a world where there were only trees – or something else was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>He stopped in a clearing and leaned against a tree to catch his breath. Suddenly, he frowned. The place looked familiar. He was sure it was where he had woken up. He had been walking in circles.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t have. I know I was heading South. I can’t have gotten back.”</p><p> </p><p>Not unless he had missed something. Not unless something had made him turn back. Now that he thought better of it, there had been plenty other spots that had looked familiar. Almost like he was not following a straight road.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a maze,” he discovered. “A puzzle set for me. I’m supposed to find my way back somehow.”</p><p> </p><p>He did not want to think what would happen to him if he wasn’t able to do this. Well, two could play this game. Sam had been taught tracking and finding his way in the wilderness since he was barely able to walk. This maze couldn’t have been more difficult than the many obstacle courses John Winchester would set up for him and Dean when they were kids.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Sam nodded, trying to sound unafraid. “Fine. Challenge accepted.”</p><p> </p><p>Now that he knew the situation, he believed he could find his way out.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>                  xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxxx</p><p> </p><p>Some two hours later, Sam had finally found a road that made sense and he was sticking to it. He was convinced now that he was being followed. He had not been stopped in any way, which reinforced the idea that nothing would happen to him if he managed to find the way out of the maze. He still did not know what the purpose of the exercise was, or why he had been taken in the first place. But he figured he would get his answers once he was safely back at the motel with Dean. His brother was probably turning Gatlinburg inside out searching for him.</p><p> </p><p>Finally, his ears picked up something. Cars. The sound of cars speeding by somewhere in the distance. He had to be close to the highway, then. He fought with his exhaustion and pressed on. The last lap, he told himself. Once he was on the highway, he could flag a car heading towards the town.</p><p> </p><p>It took another half hour. By now he was sure he had left the maze behind him. Sam wondered if he had left his pursuer behind, too, or if it was still following him, with more tests in tow. Well, he had passed the first one. He could pass the others, too – he hoped.</p><p> </p><p>When Sam reached the highway, his strength was almost spent. His legs were shaking and the pounding in his head reminded him sharply that he had been hit pretty hard before waking up in the forest. He wondered if he looked presentable enough to drivers. No car that passed him seemed inclined to stop. Sam shook his head. There were so few good Samaritans nowadays.</p><p> </p><p>Then Sam spotted something that had his heart leaping with relief. There was a car speeding towards him, coming from the direction of Gatlinburg. Sam would have recognized the car anywhere. It spoke of the days and nights of his childhood, of a feeling of safety he could not recapture, not even in the bunker. The Impala. And Dean was driving it.</p><p> </p><p>Sam took a step closer to the road, waving his arms. He needn’t have bothered, though. Dean had a sixth sense when it came to him. He was already stopped and out of the car before Sam could process it.</p><p> </p><p>“Sam!” Dean shouted making his way towards him. “What the hell happened to you, man? You alright?”</p><p> </p><p>He grabbed Sam’s shoulder and looked him up and down with that intensity that made Sam feel like he was the safest, most taken care of person in the world.</p><p> </p><p>“Where did you go?” Dean demanded sharply, and anyone else would have thought he was angry at Sam. “Your tracker only turned on about half an hour ago, but by then I had already figured out you had to be somewhere in the woods. I was on my way to find you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I think I was supposed to find the way out on my own first,” Sam said.</p><p> </p><p>Dean frowned in confusion.</p><p> </p><p>“What? Why? What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>He was already leading Sam towards the car, and Sam was glad to allow him to take charge for once.</p><p> </p><p>“It was a test, Dean. Something to prove I’m worthy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Like a game of riddles,” Dean repeated darkly.</p><p> </p><p>Sam decided he’d ask Dean later what he meant by that.</p><p> </p><p>“Anyway, I won, obviously.”</p><p> </p><p>He did not add that, if he had lost, Dean would have probably found him in the same state as Brad Sniders.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>                         xxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxx</p><p> </p><p>Back in Gatlinbug, Alan Sniders was on his way home. He knew his mother would arrive that evening and his in-laws were flying in and would get there in the morning, in time for Brad’s funeral. Aunt Clarice was already there, of course, pretending to comfort Alan’s wife, all the while hinting that it was actually Alan’s job to be with the mother of his dead son.</p><p> </p><p>Alan knew he wasn’t a good person. No good person visited his secretary two days in a row so soon after the death of his youngest son. A good person would have stayed home, trying to offer comfort to his remaining family. A good person would vow to turn over a new leaf and let go of the secretary altogether.</p><p> </p><p>He could not help it, though. Kelly understood him. She had been his rock since Brad’s death, simply because she did not offer to talk about Brad. She seemed to know Alan needed to deal by forgetting everything for a while – Brad’s death, his wife’s sorrow, Ken’s accusations. His oldest son seemed to think it was somehow Alan’s fault Brad was dead.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“How the bloody hell is it my fault?” Alan had shouted that morning, after the two FBI agents had left. “I didn’t kill him, did I?”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>“How should I know?” Ken asked. “You were late for dinner, weren’t you? Arrived soon after I raised the alarm about Brad. Anyway, you don’t seem too hung up about it. Don’t think I don’t know where you’re going. Brad knew too. About your little escapades. Why do you think he was failing school? Why do you think he’d been acting so erratically lately? You’re bound to go off the rails when you know your father’s off with someone old enough to be your sister.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The worst part was, Ken was right. Alan must have lost interest in his family a long time ago, but he was the one who had started pulling the rest of them apart. Maybe he had been doing it long before his affair with Kelly.</p><p> </p><p>As he turned a corner, he nearly crashed into a man coming from the opposite direction. Alan laughed nervously.</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t see you there, pal. Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>He made to keep going but the other blocked his way. Alan frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, I don’t want any trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>The man grinned. He was handsome, Alan noticed, but there was something repulsive in the way he looked at him.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t want any trouble,” the man replied in an accent that Alan could not place. “None of you do. But you still bring trouble wherever you go.”</p><p> </p><p>He reached out. Alan felt a wall of ice surround him. He wondered briefly if that was Brad had felt, too, in his last moments.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! More to come.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning found Dean once again in the Sniders’ living room. It was strange, how this thing was taking down the family one by one. Dean was starting to think all this did not have anything to do with Helmi’s band after all. Perhaps it was a family curse. Perhaps the Sniders’ home was haunted. Sam was looking into those things now, at Alan Sniders’ work place. Dean had drawn the short straw and was now once more face to face with the grieving family. Although, neither Mrs. Sniders nor Ken seemed to be grieving Alan’s death. Just bewildered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Alan Sniders had been found dead in an alley just like his son – only it was nowhere near Hal’s Diner and, as far as Dean knew, nowhere near Helmi Jokinen, either. Like Brad, he was missing his eyes. They were not in his hand, though. Allan’s eyes, as well as his tongue, had been unceremoniously deposited on the doorstep of one Ms. Kelly Lattimer, coincidentally – or not – Alan Snider’s secretary. Ken saw no reason to hide from Dean that she was more than a secretary.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They were sleeping together,” he said bluntly, ignoring his mother’s flinch. “I knew. Brad knew. Hell, the whole town knew, I think. Most were pretending they didn’t, but, really, it was hard not to notice. Dad wasn’t exactly discreet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean cleared his throat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So,” he began cautiously. “Yesterday night, Mr. Sniders was…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Getting busy with his mistress two days after his youngest son was found murdered,” Ken completed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ken, really…” Mrs. Sniders tried weakly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ken cast her a derisive look.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He needs to know doesn’t he? After all, for all we know, dad’s the one who caused all this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean frowned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why do you say that? Did your father have any enemies?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, Kelly had a boyfriend, so maybe it’s him. Some big shot at City Hall. Their type are well connected, aren’t they? Maybe they hired some kind of hitman.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mrs. Sniders put a restraining hand on Ken’s shoulder. She smiled apologetically at Dean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Agent. My son just needs to make sense of it all, he needs someone to blame. But these were just...random attacks, right? I mean, there are a lot of strange people in town for the festival. Maybe that’s all there is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean made a non-committal sound. He suspected that, unfortunately, the remaining Sniders would never get the answers they needed regarding the death of their family members.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>XXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXXXXXXXXX</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Helmi was down in the hotel restaurant having breakfast. Most of the people there were involved with the festival, which meant there were fewer chances of having crazy fans spotting her. Fans were fine until they requested a selfie with your bacon and eggs. Then things got awkward.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Looking up, she spotted one of her colleagues and waved him over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Morning, Pekka,” she greeted. “Where are the others?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pekka grinned and went to sit down besides Helmi.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Johan and Tony are still asleep,” he said. “They’ll probably wake up with the world’s biggest hangover. It was that kind of a night. As for Elias…he’s wherever Elias goes when he gets into that panicked things-are-gonna-go-wrong mood.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Helmi smirked and pointed to the dark-haired man who had just walked into the restaurant and headed straight for the coffee pot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There he is. Looking a little rough around the edges, but not about to have a panic attack just yet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias’ overly long hair was standing in all directions in ways Helmi had no idea hair could be capable of standing. His face was pale. He had probably not slept the night before, but Helmi doubted it was had been the fun kind of sleepless night. Elias finally turned and headed for them, but he still looked distracted, as if he could not really see them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There you are,” he greeted. “Hey, Helmi, I didn’t get the chance to talk to you yesterday. What the hell did that FBI guy want with you? I don’t have to call a lawyer or the Embassy or…or however this goes?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Helmi hesitated. Elias did not look like he would handle very well news about dead people and stalkers. Not to mention all the other things she’d discussed with the Agent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing,” she said dismissively. “I was at this pancake place.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias looked confused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s a crime in America?” he asked, then waved the thought aside. “Look, I’d like to stay and chat, but I’ve got the talk to the guy in charge with the pyrotechnics. What’s his name…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pekka snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mikka. And you hired him, dude. Family friend, wasn’t he? You should know his name.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias reached out for Pekka’s coffee cup, disappointed to find it empty.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Family </em>friend,” he pointed out. “Meaning, my family is friends with family. I don’t know him from Adam. Dad said the guy needed a job, so I said OK. I’m beginning to regret it now. That thing last week...”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pekka rolled his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Still haven’t let that one go, man? It was an accident. And nothing actually happened”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias frowned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“People don’t like it when you nearly blow up the venue with them inside. They tend not to call you again, afterwards. Now I’ve really got to go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He moved away from the table. Pekka shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Give someone a little authority,” he muttered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Want me to talk to him?” Helmi offered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pekka waved her aside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nah, it’s best to leave him alone when he gets like this. He’s got those periods when he grows…intense. I mean, more than usual. He used to say such strange stuff, too, at one point.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh?” Helmi prompted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Since she had joined Apostles of Shadow later, she thought she was seeing a tamer version of Elias, more mature than rumors described him. Definitely more down to earth and used to the idea that the band he had founded after leaving high school had grown so big.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This was a few years before you joined,” Pekka said. “We were at this hotel, and I guess it must have had some issues with the wiring, you know? Flickering lights and all. Anyway, Elias had apparently gone and bought salt and scattered it in front of the doors and windows to his room. Said it deterred spirits.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Helmi shook her head bemused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How’s that supposed to work?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pekka shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ask Elias. Only not now. He looks about to blow a gasket.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Helmi spotted Elias at the entrance to the restaurant talking to a younger man with lanky black hair dressed in elegant clothes. Mikka, she realized. The pyrotechnics guy. He looked chagrined, like he did not like what Elias was telling him. Helmi hoped Elias was not giving the kid his marching orders just yet and would actually wait until they were all back in Finland before he fired Mikka.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Dean got back to the hotel, Sam was already there. He was sitting up in bed, his laptop on his knees.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, how’s your noggin’?” Dean greeted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His brother had looked better that morning. Not completely recovered from his adventure in the woods, but fine enough for him to insist to keep on working the case.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m fine,” Sam said now, not bothering to look up. “Except for the drum solo playing in my head.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not in your head. Opening day at the festival, remember? We’re close enough for sound to carry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam hummed distractedly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Apostles of Shadow are playing tomorrow night. I think we should go. Something might happen.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean walked to the table and sat down facing Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You still think it’s got to do with them? I mean, I’m starting to think it’s something targeting the Sniders. Maybe a family curse.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam pushed the laptop aside and sat up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know, Dean. It’s a bit of a coincidence, that it’s all happening now, don’t you think? Anyway, I had a chat with Kelly.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean looked up interested.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did she tell you she was Alan Sniders’ side piece?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, she didn’t. She actually told me Alan loved her, and he was going to divorce his wife and start a family with her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>No way Alan Sniders would have given up the house and the supposed family fortune that would have gone to him if he remained on the straight and narrow. Sam noticed Dean’s look and nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“My thoughts exactly. Which explains the tongue. He was lying to Kelly, wasn’t he?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded, thoughtfully. So far, there was a pattern. Brad Sniders had been stalking Helmi, looking where he should not have had. Even if Ken was right and his brother was more of a misguided idiot than a creep, the spirit world had different rules. A sin was a sin to them, regardless of intention. As for Alan Sniders, Dean could understand why something bent on punishing sins would see him as a candidate. All was clear, so far. One thing, however, did not add up. Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about you?” he asked. “I mean, you weren’t doing anything shady. I don’t even remember the last time you even looked at a woman.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The look Sam gave him spelled murder. Dean snickered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Seriously, Sam, you don’t fit the pattern. Why were you attacked?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam got up and went to the window. He thought back at those moments in the alley. One thing was certain now the confusion had passed. His attacker had never meant to kill him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think it was a test,” he said. “I think whatever it was saw me in the alley and realized I was investigating Brad’s murder. Maybe it recognized me as a Hunter. I don’t know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So what?” Dean prompted. “It wanted you off the board?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Only, it hadn’t gotten Sam off the board. It had dropped him into a maze and allowed him to find his way out.  Why? To study Sam? To see how he acted? How he thought under pressure? Sam had found his way out of the maze. Sam had outwitted his opponent. And maybe whatever they were after found something like that important enough to spare Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That story Helmi mentioned,” Sam said, not looking away from the window. “The guy who challenged the devil or something…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, but I mean, it obviously wasn’t…you know…the devil…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam tensed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know it wasn’t Lucifer, Dean. That’s definitely not his style for one thing. He’s not one for subtleties.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean cleared his throat. It bothered him, the way Sam sometimes talked about Lucifer like he knew him so well. It reminded Dean of how long his little brother had spent in the Cage and what he must have gone through down there. All the things Dean hadn’t been able to shield him from.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Sam turned from the window to face Dean, he did not look haunted by trauma, though. He had that hyper-focused expression, the one that lit up his eyes with excitement. Sam always thrived when he had a puzzle to solve. And suddenly, Dean knew why the thing had gone after Sam. Because Sammy had always loved a good mystery to sink his teeth into.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There are plenty of cultures that have this legend, Dean,” Sam said. ‘Somebody starts a contest with the devil. If they lose, their soul is lost. If they win, they get whatever they desire, no strings attached. I was challenged yesterday, Dean. And I won.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you think Brad and Alan Sniders lost?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam went back to the bed and ran a weary hand over his face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think we’re missing something,” he admitted. “And whatever this is, it has to be connected to the festival. More specifically, to Apostles of Shadow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean frowned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What makes you say that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam turned to his laptop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Helmi told you they’d been in the States for three weeks, right? Well, she didn’t mention their crappy luck, did she?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean shook his head, intrigued.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Everywhere they went, something happened,” Sam went on. “Nothing as serious as here. Minor things. Equipment being damaged. The roof to a venue caving in three hours before the band’s scheduled soundcheck. An obnoxious interviewer getting food poison. The most serious was their manager slipping on the stairs outside their hotel and breaking his leg. He’s in hospital now before flying back to Finland to recover. His duties are taken care of by composer and songwriter Elias Tahtinen, he founded Apostles of Shadow apparently. Keyboard player, too, by the way, and I’m only telling you this because his one of his synthesizers nearly caught fire due to some faulty pyrotechnics.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean whistled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s a lot of bad luck. Who did they piss off?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe it’s not about them,” Sam said thoughtfully. “Maybe something hitched a ride with them from Finland. Something that might even be trying to protect them in some weird way. These things rarely make sense.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean got up. If Sam was right, then they had to go to the source. They would have to talk to Helmi and her colleagues before someone else was killed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A sizzling sound distracted him. He barely had time to register it fully when he heard Sam’s panicked voice calling his name, and then Sam was slamming into him, sending him crashing to the floor. There was a pop somewhere above him and the distinct smell of smoke.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Sam moved away from him, Dean looked up to notice the light bulb on the ceiling had cracked. If his brother hadn’t pushed him out of the way Dean would have been covered in glass.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, that was interesting timing,” Dean quipped lightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam did not answer. He helped Dean up, glaring at the room, as if he held it personally responsible for nearly harming Dean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come on,” he said curtly. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean knew better than to put up a fight with his brother when he got like that. Not that he wanted to stay in that room longer than was necessary.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TBC <br/>Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam and Dean had decided that divide and conquer was their best strategy when dealing with the band. Sam would take Helmi and Dean would try to find Elias. Then they’ll work their way through the other three bandmembers, as well as the staff. Apostles of Shadow travelled with a large entourage, so talking to them would take a while. Splitting up made sense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still, neither of them enjoyed having the other out of their sight. They’d already been attacked twice on this case. True, the first time had been a test and the second time would have been non-fatal even if Sam had not pushed Dean out of the way in time. That thing with the light bulb could have been only a coincidence, after all – if only they believed in coincidences. Or maybe it was a temper tantrum from whatever they were chasing. A way of reminding the Winchesters who was in charge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean had a hard time tracking Elias. He seemed to be all over the place, checking this and that to make sure everything would go smoothly for next night’s performance. Whenever Dean was sure he had found him, he was directed somewhere else. It was not really that bad, at least Dean had managed to talk to most of the crew that way. But it still annoyed him that the founder of the band was proving so elusive.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, he was directed to the tour bus. At first, when Dean pushed the door open, he was afraid he had missed Elias again. There did not seem to be any sign of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, is anyone there?” Dean called.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His hand was on his gun, ready to draw it at the first sign of trouble. He heard scuffling from the back of the bus and his hand tightened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then Elias was getting up from one of the seats, looking disheveled as if he had just woken up. It took him a few seconds to focus on Dean and to recognize him, but when he did, he looked anything but pleased.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re the FBI guy, aren’t you?” he grumbled. “What, do you get your kicks out of harassing people?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean ignored the jab. He let go of his gun but did not drop his guard down. He was still alone with Elias and, for all Dean knew, he was the one responsible for all the weirdness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you doing here anyway?” he demanded. “Don’t you have a hotel room to sleep in?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“People look for you in hotel rooms,” Elias grumbled. “I wanted some peace and quiet. Which I apparently can’t get. Is it even legal for you to keep bothering us like this?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean drew several steps closer and sat down in one of the seats. He noticed Elias’ discomfort.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve heard you had a pretty bad tour. I mean, that incident with your manager, some problems with the venue…not your best year, is it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stuff happens. If it’s not the manager breaking his leg, it’s flu epidemic and bomb threats during your shows. We’ve learned to live with it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean’s eyes narrowed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about that accident when your instrument caught fire? Learned to live with that, yet?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He noticed Elias’ shoulders tensing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing caught fire,” Elias protested. “There was a spark. One of the tech crew next to the stage noticed it immediately and put it out. I’m sure most of the fans didn’t even register what was happening at the time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But he had registered what was happening all right. Dean had watched the YouTube video and what intrigued him most was Elias’ reaction – or lack of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I saw you,” he said. “You kept playing. I mean, you probably paused for a second or two, but the instant that spark was put out, you just kept going. I’ve read some of the comments from your fans. They said you hit a few wrong notes – understandably, I guess. Then you recovered and kept hitting those keys like there was no tomorrow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias lowered his head and ran a weary hand over his face. Dean noticed his hand was trembling but chose not to comment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Funny you should describe it like that. Considering for a few seconds I was actually convinced there wouldn’t be any tomorrow. I was out of my head panicking. It was either act as if nothing was wrong or run from the stage screaming.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean narrowed his eyes. There was something about Elias he couldn’t quite place. He did not know if it pointed to Elias’ guilt – but it definitely pointed to <em>something</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, when it happened, did you notice anything?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias glared at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Besides my life flashing in front of my eyes, you mean?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m thinking more along the lines of…sounds that shouldn’t have been there…smells…maybe you smelled rotten eggs or something?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It happened quickly, but Dean still had time to notice it. Elias had been reluctant to talk from the start. Once Dean asked his question, though, it was as if a wall had come up between the two of them. Elias got up and drew a step back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suggest you get the hell away from me and stay the hell away from my colleagues as well. Otherwise I’m calling the cops on you. And we both know how that’s going to go…<em>Agent</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was off the bus before Dean could stop him. Dean shook his head, irritated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, that went crappy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean and Sam touched base at Hal’s Diner. They had another look at the alley, but there was no sign of anything untoward having happened there. The traces of Brad’s murder had been wiped away. There were no signs of the attack on Sam, either. Not that they had been expecting any. They then headed to the diner for a late breakfast and an assessment of the situation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m telling you man, that Elias dude has to be smack in the middle of this. Either he knows who’s doing this or he’s doing this himself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam wrinkled his nose. Dean was currently thinking things out loud and eating at the same time, which meant he was talking with his mouth full and not being shy about it. Considering that Dean had, as usual, ordered the greasiest item on the menu – something with bacon and some other type of meat Sam did not want to know about – Sam’s own appetite was rapidly waning. He turned his attention to his laptop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, the good news is I think I have a pretty good idea what we’re dealing with. Or rather who.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean swallowed his mouthful of pancakes and reached for his coffee, encouraging Sam to go on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve checked some websites on Finnish mythology and I also looked at some of the books I’ve scanned from the bunker. Obviously, this would go a lot quicker if I had access to the entire library from back home, but I think the intel I’ve gathered so far helps. I think we’re dealing with Piru. According to the lore, he’s a henchman of the devil himself – that’s Lempo in Finnish culture. Well, Lempo is either the devil or the Finnish god of love.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean raised his eyebrows.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean, I’ve had some pretty messed up relationships – but even I think there’s a huge difference between the two.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Christianity was pretty rough on pagan deities, Dean. If they couldn’t stop the locals from worshipping it, they turned it into the devil. Anyway, Piru is a bit of an ambiguous figure. The lore says he’s a demon of the woods. He likes to take people there and challenge them to a game of riddles.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded to show that he understood. It fit. The patterns in the light Brad had reported seeing, Sam’s own test in the woods, they were starting to make sense.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Piru does some pretty messed up things,” Sam went on. “But most of the time it’s hard to say if he’s really evil, or only trying to deliver his own brand of justice. For example, I found this story about a mother who was neglecting her kids to go to balls. Piru danced with her until her feet fell off.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean shuddered. He hated when the things they were hunting were trying to deliver justice. Supernatural forces saw everything in black and white. A crime was a crime and no justification could save you. Which explained Brad being found dead with his eyes in his hands while following Helmi all over the place – or Brad’s father suffering a similar fate after sneaking out to see his mistress while the family was grieving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about the hooves?” he asked. “Helmi said she heard hooves. Is it related?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Probably. Piru is said to have mismatched feet. One is human, the other is that of a goat. The rest of him is quite handsome though.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean seeped his coffee thoughtfully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ok, but what’s he doing hitching a ride through America with a metal band?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know. Maybe someone is carrying some cursed object without even knowing. Maybe someone summoned him for some reason.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe it’s that Elias dude. What have you got on him?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam typed on his laptop, his eyes scanning the article in front of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Elias Tahtinen, 34. Composer, songwriter, keyboard player. He founded Apostles of Shadow after finishing high school. They grew big pretty quickly, although they went through some controversial line-up changes. Elias is pretty private with his life outside music, though. I know he lives in Finland, but I can’t find where exactly.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And don’t you find this a little suspicious?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The waitress passed their table and Dean winked at her. Sam rolled his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Considering two people have already had their eyes gauged out because they looked where they shouldn’t – maybe you should dial it down a notch on this case.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean sniggered. Sam was right though. He looked at the waitress with regret. She had definitely been sending vibes his way. But maybe he should postpone their fun until the case was over. He left some money on the table and got up, waiting for Sam to gather his things.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, this Piru, how do we gank it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam followed him outside the diner and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place, but he could not get rid of the impression they were being followed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know,” he said at length. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias waited until sundown. He had performed his duties diligently until then – rehearsals, autograph sessions, interviews. He had even managed to smile during the photoshoot when asked – not that he was asked too often. Fans enjoyed the idea that he had some dark persona. They preferred him looking grim instead of smiling – at least in pictures. If he wasn’t smiling during concerts, they accused him of not having a good time. Even after he was nearly set on fire by a rogue pyrotechnic effect.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Between his duties, though, he asked questions. He was as discrete and inconspicuous as possible – or at least, he thought he was – so people gave him answers without hesitation. He was told about the black Impala parked at a motel not far from the festival. Elias was sure no one else in town had a car like that. It had to be the one belonging to the so-called Agent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the evening, he refused his colleagues’ invitation for a night out and sneaked out to do some exploring. He had done some thinking since his talk on the bus. There was only one thing he could do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He reached the motel and saw the car parked in front of one of the rooms. The lights were on in the motel. They were there, then. Elias did not knock on their door, though. First, he bent to have a look inside the car. The sight left him vaguely disappointed. There was nothing there – a jacket thrown carelessly in the backseat and an empty coffee cup in the front. Everything looked disconcertingly normal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias straightened up. He froze suddenly, feeling something at his back. He did not have to turn around to know it was a gun.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Fancy meeting you here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was the Agent. Dean Blackmore, as he had introduced himself, although Elias doubted that was his name. His voice was different, though. He had been playing a role on the bus. Now he was himself, harsh and deadly, and suddenly Elias was beginning to regret his decision. This man was more dangerous than he had first thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look,” he began, clearing his throat. “I really…. <em>really </em>don’t want any trouble.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The other figure approached from in front of him. Elias had not even noticed him before, he had just detached himself from the shadows. He was taller than Dean – taller than Elias, too. Like Dean, it had a gun trained on him. Elias began raising his hands slowly, to show he wasn’t a threat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you want no trouble, why are you here?” the guy in front asked. “Are you the one summoning Piru?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took a while for the meaning of the question to register to Elias. His heart clenched.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What? Jesus, no! No! Look, I’m here to ask for your help…My family, they were Hunters. And, unless I’ve completely misinterpreted this, I think you are, too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed. I’ve got the information about Piru from various sources, including some books on world myths. I’m not Finnish, though, so it might not be 100% accurate. But, then again, the show also takes creative licenses with the myths it uses, so there you have it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After Elias’ bombshell, Sam and Dean led him into their motel room and performed the usual tests. Elias took it quite calmly and did not object to having holy water thrown in his face, or his skin nicked with a silver knife. That, at least, proved he was knowledgeable about the hunting world.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, how does this work?” Dean wanted to know. “You play the piano by day and kill monsters by night?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias rolled his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Technically, it’s a keyboard. And no. I don’t kill anything. I’m not a Hunter. I mean – I know what’s out there and I can defend myself against it. I’ve done a few cleansing rituals from time to time, and after I fired my first vocalist I had to check hotel rooms for hex bags regularly. Fans can be wild, you now. But the closest I ever got to actual hunting was an exorcism. My lead guitarist got possessed by some low-level demon some years ago. Tony does not remember a thing, of course. He thinks someone roofied him, and I’m not about to tell him any different.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But your parents are Hunters, right?” Sam asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias looked away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Were</em> Hunters,” he said tightly. “They died when I was eleven.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam and Dean exchanged glances. Elias did not need to provide them with further details of his parents’ death. Hunters rarely lived long and fruitful lives.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was raised by a family friend,” Elias went on. “He adopted me, changed my name to his just to be safe. Everyone who knows me thinks he is my real father. He was sort of a Hunter, too. Well, he mostly dealt with research and stuff, and he quit almost altogether when he took me in. Didn’t want to risk leaving me alone, I suppose. But he continued to teach me about what’s out there. It made interacting with normal people tough, at times. They have no idea what’s out to get them. And you can’t tell them, can you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A thought suddenly struck Sam. He frowned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Something I don’t understand though. The British Men of Letters – you know about them, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias tensed and drew slightly back, as if the mention of them made him want to be as far away from that place as possible. Sam could not blame him. He turned to Dean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When Lady Bevell held me captive, she kept telling me the Brits had eliminated all monsters from Europe. What’s there to hunt?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias snorted, shaking his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s very presumptuous of her, really. Typical of the British Men of Letters. I’ll hand it to them, they have resources, and they have indeed managed to keep some things in check. But I’m mostly talking about monsters that are easy to track, that follow patterns – werewolves, vampires, the like. Yes, you won’t find many of those across the pond. But there are other things – ancient things, dark things that keep themselves hidden. That have managed to adapt themselves so well, the British Men of Letters can’t find them. Hunters do, especially those who have been doing this job for generations. They see the signs more quickly. What needs to be taken down is taken down, what not is left alone. There are plenty of things out there that don’t really mean harm to anyone. The British Men of Letters refuse to see that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You seem to dislike them quite a lot,” Dean remarked. “Not that I blame you, they’re a bunch of pompous dickbags. They kidnapped and tortured my brother, so it’s a little personal for me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias’s eyes shifted to him, then he looked away once again. His face darkened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s personal for me as well. They’re the ones who got my family killed. They contacted my Dad, said there was a shtriga in the area. Usually my Dad steered clear of them – he never trusted them. But this was a shtriga and I was a kid, so I could have been in danger too if it wasn’t stopped. So he went, with my Mum and my sister…well, turns out it wasn’t a shtriga, but a bunch of demons trying to turn kids into perfect hosts or something. My family was not prepared for that…” Elias paused and shook his head in disgust. “They visited me at my adopted father’s, you know,” he added. “The Brits. They offered some half-assed apology – as if that would bring my family back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean was seething. He had been prejudiced against the British Men of Letters from the start – well, hard not to, with what they had done to Sam. But this – sloppy work and putting Hunters in danger, orphaning a kid just because they couldn’t get their facts right – if one of those pompous douches had been close by, Dean would have punched them in the face on principle alone. He glanced at Sam and saw the same smoldering fury in his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was Elias who changed the subject. He looked rather embarrassed, as if he had not meant to bare his soul in front of two virtual strangers who had threatened to shoot him not half an hour before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re not interested in all that, though. You were saying something about Piru…You think someone has summoned Piru?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam and Dean told Elias about the information they had so far – Brad’s death, followed closely by his father’s and Sam’s attack and challenge. Elias nodded thoughtfully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This does seem to fit Piru’s M.O. And perhaps it explains our excessive bad luck.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Any idea how he might have latched on to you?” Sam asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know. Piru enjoys causing mischief but following us to the other side of the world seems extreme even for him. Unless…unless someone found a way to bind him. That would be extremely risky. Piru’s not your garden variety spirit. He’s powerful and he’s capricious. He could easily get out of control.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Which was probably what was happening now. Whoever had summoned Piru – for whatever unexplainable reason – probably had not meant to set him loose on the Sniders or on Sam. That had been Piru trying to assert his will. It did not bode well for his summoner.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The shrill ringing of a phone interrupted the thoughtful silence. Sam looked at Dean who shook his head. Elias smiled sheepishly and took out his own phone. The moment he answered it, his smile faded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What? What do you mean, he’s…? How? No, I’m…I’m on my way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He switched off the phone and looked at the two Hunters with wide eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“One of my pyrotechnicians,” he said. “He was found dead in front of our hotel. His eyes were missing. So were his hands.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean and Sam arrived at the hotel ten minutes after the call. During the drive, Elias filled them in on the details he knew: his lead guitarist had gone out for a smoke and had apparently found the body. He had sounded the alarm, called the police then Elias. The pyrotechnician was new. It had been his first tour with them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“His name’s Mikka. Young guy. In his twenties, I think. My adopted Dad knew his family, they put in a good word with me. He did not mix much. Half the time I couldn’t remember his name.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam caught the note of regret easily.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whatever happened, it’s not on you,” he said. “Let’s just focus on finding Piru and making sure no one else gets hurt, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He did not have to turn to look at Elias in the back seat to feel his half-incredulous stare.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know,” Elias commented. “I could never do what you guys do. I mean – all the death, all the defeat, how do you get used to it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam sometimes wondered the same thing himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they reached the hotel, the place was already crawling with police and paramedics. There was an area cordoned off where the body had to be. Further away, they spotted Helmi sitting with a younger man who was leaning against the wall, pale and shaken. That had to be the lead guitarist, Tony. The one who had already been possessed by a demon once, apparently. At this rate, Elias would have no choice but to explain the facts of life to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias strode to his bandmates, completely ignoring Sam and Dean. He knelt in front of Tony and put a hand on his shoulder. Seeing that the civilians were taken care of, Sam and Dean made their way to the crime scene. They had already introduced themselves to the local police.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Agents,” the coroner greeted. “You got here fast. I was just about to call you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, we heard it on the scanner,” Dean lied smoothly. “What can you tell us? Same as the others?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The coroner pulled the sheet away from the body.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“See for yourself. I have no idea where the eyes are this time, though. Or the hands. Why take the hands? Is the bastard escalating?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam and Dean exchanged questioning looks. Why take the hands, indeed? What was Piru trying to say about the guy?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We need to see the room where he was staying,” Dean decided.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He signaled to Sam to follow him, when one of the police officers called him back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey Agents, what about the festival? Do we cancel the rest of it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean hesitated. They rarely had a chance to put a stop to things and now he knew the police were desperate enough after three murders in their town to listen to them. If Piru was targeting Apostles of Shadows, and if their concert was tomorrow evening, maybe canceling it was not such a bad idea. But Piru would still tag along after the band and would make his move in another town. The only thing they could do was catch him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t think it’s necessary right now,” Dean said at length. “But we’ll be there. To keep an eye on things, you know. C’mon, Sam.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As they moved away Dean turned to Sam. He could tell from the look on his little brother’s face that his mind was going a mile a minute.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You thinking what I’m thinking, Sammy?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam’s face was grim.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have a fair idea. I think I know why Piru took the hands. Let’s look at the guy’s room and see if I’m right.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mikka’s room was on the second floor, further away from the others. Apparently, he himself had requested this arrangement as he thought the rest of the crew a rowdy bunch and claimed he could not sleep with them close. That in itself was quite suspicious. Not many people volunteered to follow a metal band on tour and complain about the noise. Mikka had definitely been hiding something.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as the brothers were in the room, they realized their suspicions were valid. Mikka had painted symbols on the wall, some of them for protection, but others definitely not. There was an improvised altar in the corner, with a bowl filled with blood surrounded by candles. Several old books were scattered around it. Sam bent down and picked one up gingerly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean, this is seriously dark stuff.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No kidding.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam turned around, hearing the edge in Dean’s voice. Dean was standing by the bedside table holding a pair of gold handcuffs. They were broken.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let me guess,” Sam said. “Those were supposed to keep Piru bound.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean allowed the cuffs to drop back on the table.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not anymore. Piru’s loose and I assume he’s pissed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It explained why Mikka’s hands were missing. Piru was sending a clear message about what happened to those that tried to bind him. Of course, it was too much to hope his anger had abated once he had dealt with his jailer. It did not usually work this way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So tell me something, Sam,” Dean went on. “There’s this guy who decides to summon a powerful demon and make him his bitch while they’re touring the states with a metal band. A band belonging to the kid of a Hunter. You know what I think about coincidences, Sammy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam sat down heavily on the bed. He had been afraid of the same thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is about Elias,” he discovered. “Only, if Piru was targeting Elias, he was doing it in a very roundabout way. I mean, except for that thing with the keyboard, nothing that happened was actually directed at him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And even the keyboard nearly catching fire did not speak of murderous deity on a rampage. Because the spark was put out before it could do any harm. Either Piru was doing a piss-poor job of Mikka’s orders, or there was something else at stake.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about Brad?” Sam wondered. “And his father? I mean, yeah, Brad was a fan, but so what? Elias didn’t even know he existed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean had been thinking the same thing. Except, he thought he was close to the real answer. Because Brad had not been the only one out and about that night. Dean remembered something Helmi had said the first time he talked to her – that her colleagues were like family to her. It was an easy thing to say and not mean, but Dean had seen the look in Elias’s eyes outside the hotel when he had gone to take care of Tony. Dean knew that look. He had often seen it on Sam’s face whenever he had been in danger, and he was more than certain he had worn it too more than once when he was concerned about Sam. Dean also knew that if somebody wanted to do him harm – if someone wanted to really break him – they would not go directly after him. They would go after Sam first. Some people felt more pain when their family was in danger than when they were direct targets themselves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Piru wasn’t after Brad that evening,” he said. “He was after Helmi.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After all, Helmi had heard the hooves. It was not far-fetched to think she had been the original target. Mikka had ordered Piru to get Helmi. Then Brad had got in the way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Brad’s brother told us Brad confronted the person he saw,” Sam remembered. “Maybe Piru had to make sure no one knew he was there. He went after Brad instead of Helmi. Gave him his own brand of justice because Brad was doing something that could have been considered not very moral. That must have set him off. Must have made him want to fight Mikka and the orders he was giving him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He'd gone after Sam and after Alan, which surely had been against Mikka’s wishes. And that evening, he had found a way to set himself free and get revenge on his captor. Mikka was dead. But Piru was still out there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s pissed,” Sam said. “And he’s not gonna stop until we stop him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And we’ve got two days left. The band’s leaving town after the festival. How much do you wanna bet Piru will move on after them?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias took it rather badly. Sam and Dean had found him in his hotel room and had delivered the news: Mikka had been the one to bind Piru and it had probably had something to do with Elias or his family. Piru was loose, and, even though the one who had set him on this mission was dead, that did not mean Elias or his friends were safe. Piru might decide to go after them out of sheer spite.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I should cancel the concert,” he said, looking rather shocked that the words had come out of his mouth. “Hell knows how I’ll convince the others, though, we never cancel.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pull yourself together, man,” Dean told him not unkindly. “Cancelling the concert won’t do anything. Piru’s still loose. And we’ve got to deal with him, which means we have to move quickly, before you guys leave town. Keep your concert. And do your damn best to act as if nothing’s rattling you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ll be there,” Sam added. “We’ll keep an eye on things. After all, you came to us for help, right?” He waited for Elias’s nod, then added: “So trust us. Let us help.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias’s face took on a determined expression. It was not hard to see him as the son of Hunters. There was fire in him, even though he had chosen not to hunt himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What can I do to help?” he asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam and Dean hesitated. They did not enjoy having civilians caught up in their cases, even when they already knew about hunting. Neither of them wanting any deaths on their conscience – there had been quite a few of those already, throughout the years. But they both knew Elias would not sit idly by while Piru picked on the people around him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the end, they instructed Elias to call home as soon as possible and ask his adopted father about Mikka and whatever grudge he was holding against Elias. In the meantime, Sam and Dean would look for a way to find Piru – and kill him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Killing him might be impossible,” Sam said as they were driving back to their motel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean frowned, his eyes on the road.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you talking about? We’ve faced much worse.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam watched the dark shadows of the building speeding by the window. He did not know how to explain it to Dean. He had a strange feeling about Piru. He did not buy that he had ever been in league with Lucifer and he was sure he was not really a demon in the traditional sense. But he was something, something old and ancient, an unknown quantity. Whenever the Winchesters messed with such things, bad stuff followed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What if this is another Amara, Dean?” he asked at length. “Or another Abadon? What if taking Piru down would require yet another life-altering decision?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He felt Dean’s gaze on him, assessing and concerned. He did not turn to look at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re good,” Sam went on. “After everything, all those years, we’re finally good. Hell, we’ve even got Mum back. And you and I – we know where we stand.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And that’s not gonna change,” Dean hastened to assure him. “If you think we’re heading for another Mark of Cain, put that out of your mind. We’re not.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam wished he could be as certain. He wished he did not always feel they were living on borrowed time, that they have had so many lucky escapes, they were bound to run out of luck one day.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This isn’t the hunt that takes us down,” Dean said, and his voice was firm, with none of that false confidence that he used when he pretended things were alright when in fact they weren’t. He really believed it this time, and Sam was sure Dean would do everything in his power to make it true.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course,” Sam nodded, eventually. “Yeah, you’re right.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He glanced at Dean and noticed his slow, pleased smile. The one he had whenever he talked Sam off the edge. The one that always reminded Sam there was one person in the world who would never, not in a million years, turn his back on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A siren blared behind them and suddenly a fire truck overtook them. It was heading towards their motel. Sam’s blood ran cold.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean?” he asked uncertainly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean said nothing but stepped on the gas. The Impala flew close behind the firetruck, heading towards the red glare they could now see on the horizon.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The truck stopped in front of the motel. Sam and Dean stopped at a safe distance behind and approached the crowd of sleepy guests, all ragged and disheveled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What happened?” Dean asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“One of the rooms caught fire,” an old man said. “Been staying here every time I’m in town. This has never happened before. They’ve got one of those fancy alarms installed in every room. With sprinklers and all. The fire shouldn’t have spread so fast.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean pulled Sam aside. He noticed the tight look on his brother’s eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s our room,” Sam said. “You know that, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lucky you had the laptop in the car,” Dean said, making light of the situation. “And the weapons. Haven’t got much to replace.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Lucky we went with Elias,” Sam added. “Piru’s been busy tonight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean was forced to agree. Piru was using his new-found freedom to wreak havoc on anyone he thought could wrong him. And he had just declared war on the Winchesters.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-I’ve got a lot of issues with the season 12 British Men of Letters scenario. The biggest one is the idea that they managed to exterminate everything supernatural in Europe (even in Britain alone would seem unlikely). So I’ve come up with an explanation in this story. It’s more likely that the British Men of Letters were able to defeat vampires and werewolves and all those stuff that followed clear patterns. But that left plenty of other things. This is where Hunters come in.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam and Dean spent what was left of the night in the Impala, neither of them feeling safe getting another motel room. The car was safer, it had always been so. Unless Piru decided to torch it just for fun. The thought had crossed Sam’s mind, but he decided not to mention it to Dean. He knew how he got whenever the car was involved.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They woke early the next morning and headed for the festival. Elias must have put in a good word for them, since they were allowed backstage without any problems. Sam went in search of him, while Dean remained to keep an eye on things. There was no sign of Piru so far. After his little hissy fit at the motel, he was suspiciously quiet. Dean knew it would not last.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>One of the bands that were playing before Apostles of Shadow was busy with their sound check. Dean regretted he would be on the job tonight. He made a mental note to tell Sam that next year they’d be going to the festival to enjoy themselves. No cases and no hunts. Just the two of them and good music. Perhaps they could also check out an Apostles of Shadow concert when they were next in the States. Maybe they could ask Elias for a discount. That was a reasonable price to ask, if they defeated Piru.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Still here, I see.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean turned around to see Helmi heading towards him. She was carrying two cups of coffee, one of which she handed to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I ran into Sam, he told me to give you this if I see you. Said you were bound to be here somewhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean watched her face carefully for any hint of suspicion. She had probably realized he was not FBI by now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sure you have a hundred questions,” Dean said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A thousand, actually,” Helmi corrected. “But Elias told us to trust you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And,” Dean began cautiously. “You do?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I trust Elias,” Helmi replied bluntly. She looked at Dean assessing, then added with a grin on her face: “Besides, I kinda think that despite that drifter look you have that I’m sure has made many fathers lock up their daughters when you rolled into town – there’s something about you that’s unexplainably trustable.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean raised his eyebrows.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey,” he cleared his throat. “I know I’m working and you’re kinda working, too, but…uhh…I won’t say no to a bit of fun…maybe we can make time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The mischievous glint in Helmi’s eyes told him he was treading dangerous ground, but it was too late to back down now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Make time,” Helmi repeated. “You mean between the sound check and the autograph session and…oh yes, I also have to call my husband – kind of about the time my daughter goes to bed, since she won’t sleep without telling me good night.” She laughed noticing Dean’s wide eyes. “I’m sorry – I’m not living up to your rock chick ready to sneak out with her fan in the backseat of his car image, am I?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean spluttered. He was not often caught on the wrong foot. He did not know if he should act as if nothing had happened or apologize to Helmi for assuming too much. Maybe apologizing would be safer. Helmi must have noticed his dilemma. She patted his shoulder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No hard feelings,” she assured Dean. “I’m actually flattered. Besides – if you’d caught me before I married, maybe I would have seriously considered your offer. That car of yours must have a hell of a backseat.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She moved away chuckling. Dean ran a hand over his face. He hoped he wasn’t blushing too hard.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Need anything?” Sam’s voice came from behind. “A moment alone? A cold shower? A bowl of ice cream to get over being turned down?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean scowled. That look on his face had been known to send monsters running for cover. It had no effect on Sam, who was openly laughing now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You do know I could hurt you real bad, right?” Dean said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know you <em>can</em>, but I also know you <em>won’t</em>,” Sam said cheekily.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean rolled his eyes. He supposed killing Death for Sam all those years ago made such threats rather pointless. Sam knew exactly where he stood with Dean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I just got off the phone with Elias’ adopted father,” Sam went on. “Get this, Mikka was one of the last people he saved before he retired to take care of Elias.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not very grateful, was he?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam’s face turned grim.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Apparently, he saved only Mikka. He was unable to save his parents – or his twin.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean whistled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ok, I can get why he’d be a little pissed instead of grateful.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe,” Sam conceded. “The thing is, Mikka was two at the time. He didn’t even remember his real family. I guess he was told he was adopted when he came of age and started digging. He must have been pretty good, if he managed to uncover the truth.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about Piru?” Dean wanted to know. “Any tips on how to gank him?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shook his head, regretfully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not yet. But Elias’ father did send me some pictures of protective sigils. They’re supposed to keep Piru away. Temporarily, only, mind you. Let’s say that they work for an hour, two tops.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded thoughtfully. The Apostles of Shadow concert lasted almost two hours. Dean had actually been worrying about how to keep the audience safe – they weren’t talking about just one or two people, it was an entire stadium’s worth of viewers and from what he had heard the concert was sold out. It was going to be packed tonight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So we paint the signs at all entrances and exits.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And a couple on the stage,” Sam agreed. “Where the band’s supposed to stand.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But Dean immediately saw the problem with that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Give the drawing to Elias. Tell him they’re all to paint them somewhere on their bodies or clothes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam raised his eyebrows.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look, painting them on stage might keep Elias and the drummer safe,” Dean went on. “But the other three are going to be moving around. Trust me, Sam. Having the signs on them is the best way to keep them safe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam nodded, looking impressed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good thinking. There’s hope for you yet, Dean.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean’s scowl was back in place. Sam ignored it in favor of taking something out of his pocket and handing it to Dean. Dean stared at the Rubik cube in his hand, then at Sam, as if his brother had suddenly grown several extra heads.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What am I supposed to do with this?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Piru’s a puzzle junkie. Throw that at him and he won’t be able to help himself until he solves it. We also need to plant iron rods around any hideout he might have. It won’t kill him, but it will take from his power. The only problem is, we don’t know what hideouts he has.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean narrowed his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, didn’t you say Piru’s a forest demon? And didn’t he take you to the forest that time?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam nodded quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We can start there.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It still would not be completely over. They needed a way to defeat Piru, not just weaken him. They both had a sinking suspicion that it was not going to be easy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxXXXXXXXXXXXXxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They drove to the place where Dean had found Sam after the adventure with the maze in the forest and parked the Impala. Finding iron rods had not been hard. They had what they needed for the first part of their plan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The forest stretched before them, guarding its secrets like a fortress. The trees themselves loomed above them, threatening. Sam shivered. It was a sense of watchfulness he had never experienced before. It had nothing to do with the place itself. It was Piru’s influence, no doubt.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He was here alright,” Sam said. “Feel that? It’s like he’s trying to assert his dominance.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I’m getting a little tired of his pissy mood. We’re going to show him who’s in charge around these parts.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They walked for a while without any other signs of Piru. Sam tried to find some traces of the maze, only there were none. It was almost as if it had disappeared, now that it was not needed to test Sam anymore.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, they found an old cabin. Its door was wrenched off its hinges and its windows were all broken. The damage had probably been done years ago and had nothing to do with Piru. But then Sam noticed something. He clutched Dean’s arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean, look at the ground.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The grass all around the cabin was burnt and trampled. The ground was still smoking in several places. Whatever had happened there had been recent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam and Dean both drew their guns and advanced towards the cabin. The place had fallen silent. Even the birds were no longer singing. It was as if Piru’s presence had poisoned the entire land.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean pushed open the cabin door, while Sam peered through the windows. There was no one inside and there were not a lot of places for someone to hide in that single room. The two still did not lower their guard down. They walked in side by side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As soon as Sam crossed the threshold he swayed and clutched his head. He felt as if waves upon waves of <em>something</em> were crashing against him. He took a deep breath to steady himself, feeling Dean’s hand on his shoulder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sammy? What the hell, man?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean was not able to hide his concern, like he usually did. Sam took a deep breath and struggled to pull himself together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m ok,” he gasped. “It’s just…Piru’s presence here…it’s messing with my mind.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean’s hands tightened on his shoulder. Sam was immensely glad of that. It felt like his brother’s touch was the only thing keeping him grounded in the here and now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How come it’s affecting only you and not me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Years back, Sam would have thought Dean was hinting there was something suspicious about him. That he knew Sam was different, <em>wrong </em>and that was why all evil in creation was drawn to him. But the days of psychic abilities and demon blood were long behind them, and, even though Sam doubted he would ever be <em>right</em>, he was sure now Dean did not see him as anything other than his brother.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He came into contact with me before,” Sam finally managed to say. “Probably that’s why I still feel him now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Actually, the feeling was passing. It left Sam shaky and a little confused, but, at least, he was his own person again, with no foreign power beating against him. He allowed Dean to help him up, then shrugged his brother’s hand away, as if he had just remembered he was usually independent in such matters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s all good,” he added. “I’m ok now, really.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Judging from Dean’s narrowed gaze, he was not exactly convinced. Still, he allowed Sam to move away from him and turned his attention to the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The room was actually tidy, with everything in order. Piru was, apparently, a neat freak. There was a pile of objects on the table that Dean did not really know what to make of: a pin with the name of some high school, an empty wallet, a silver bracelet, and a passport. Dean opened that and saw Mikka’s face staring at him. He motioned to Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you make of these? This is Mikka’s, but what about the rest.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam reached for the wallet and flipped it. He noticed the small initials in the corner.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A.S.” he read. “I’m willing to bet it’s Alan Sniders’ wallet. And the pin…I think Brad went to that high school. It’s probably his. I have no idea about the bracelet, though. Another victim?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean frowned. He could have sworn he had seen bracelets like that before, and quite recently. Then, he remembered Hemi patting him on the shoulder that morning.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Helmi wears a few of these on her arm. Maybe it’s one of hers.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam frowned twisting the bracelet in his hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But Helmi’s still alive.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, but Mikka had ordered Piru to go after her, hadn’t he?” Dean pointed out. “Maybe Mikka gave the bracelet to Piru to point him to the right target.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He searched the pile of objects for something of Sam’s – or his. There was nothing, not that they had left much in the hotel room. It made Dean wonder what exactly Piru was planning for them. He obviously knew they were Hunters and that they were on his trail. What did he intend to do about them?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They set to work, planting the iron rods all outside the house. Piru’s influence was starting to dwindle, his presence no longer so powerful in that place. Sam wondered if Piru could feel it too, wherever he was. If he found out, he was going to be majorly pissed off when he encountered the Winchesters again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, you really don’t look good. Maybe you should sit down somewhere. Can I get you anything?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean snorted. After finishing their job of setting up the iron rods, they drove back into town. Sam was still pale and a little shaky, but he had firmly and colorfully insisted that Dean leave him alone and stop asking about his health. Once they caught sight of Helmi, she apparently noticed Sam was not looking that fine, and proceeded to fuss over him. Sam was now trying to deflect her concern – although Dean could not help noticing he was being way more polite about the whole thing than he had been with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It figured, Dean thought amused. He got the “you’re trustworthy, but still a bit shady” speech, while Sam, apparently, brought Helmi’s maternal instincts right to the surface. Well, Sammy usually was the type women wanted to mother to death. Except for Mary Winchester, a voice in Dean’s head said. He shook his head. He would have given anything for that stray thought not to have come to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clearing his throat, he decided it was time to rescue Sammy. After all, his brother had been giving him subtle clues that he was uncomfortable with the attention for about five minutes. Dean had pretended to ignore them because it was honestly funny to see him so flustered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s fine,” he assured Helmi. “Really, you’ve got no idea how quickly he bounces back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Helmi eyed him skeptically, then shrugged and moved slightly away from Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not even going to ask what you were getting yourselves into,” she said. “But Elias was looking for you. He wanted to tell you he’d done everything you asked. Any reason why I’m supposed to draw a pentagram on me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not exactly a pentagram, it’s a protection sigil,” Sam corrected wearily.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s for your own good,” Dean stated bluntly. “I assume you want to make it back to your family, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He saw the flicker of alarm on her face, but she was quick to master it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“One thing’s for certain,” she said. “It’s a long flight to Finland. And I’ll use that time to make Elias tell me e<em>verything</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean watched her walk away and whistled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s screwed,” he told Sam. “If Piru doesn’t get to Elias, Helmi will.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s why you don’t keep secrets from family,” Sam deadpanned. “It took me a while to learn that. But I finally did.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean glanced at him, then nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They would probably try to hide things from each other again. Old habits were hard to get rid of. But Dean was sure then and there that he trusted Sam now more than ever. That he could <em>always </em>trust Sam. He shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re turning me into a complete sap,” he accused.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam looked offended.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I didn’t even say anything,” he protested.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You didn’t have to. Now let’s get you something to eat before the concert. And don’t argue – or I’m siccing Helmi on you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The day dragged on without any sign of Piru. Dean was starting to get anxious. After all, Piru had been very active of late. Why go quiet now?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Perhaps the past few days have drained him,” Sam assumed. “He’s killed three times and he got free of his bonds. Maybe he’s laying low and recharging.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Or he was gearing up for something really big. Dean did not have to say that, though. He was sure Sam was thinking it, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I might have something on stopping Piru,” Sam announced. “Well, two options, at least.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded encouragingly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s hear it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We could try challenging him and outsmarting him. I’m sure that’s how Mikka drew Piru out of hiding in the first place. If we win, Piru’s bound to do what we ask him. And we’re going to ask him to leave. Go back to Finland and lay low.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There were a lot of things Dean did not like about that solution. One of them being that there was no guarantee they actually could outsmart Piru. The second was that there had been enough deals for the both of them – they did not need to add foreign deities to that list. Not to mention that, even if they did win, there was no guarantee Piru would actually stop killing for good.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That just feels like sending him away to be someone else’s problem down the line, Sam.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam nodded, accepting Dean’s words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I get that. And I wouldn’t use this solution except for a last resort.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, what else have you got? Anything that would stop Piru more permanently?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Elias’ adopted father seems to think beheading might work. But Dean, that’s risky. First, you have to get close enough. Then, Piru’s got allies. There are a ton of powerful evil spirits in Finland who are going to be extremely pissed we killed one of them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean shrugged that away. They had pissed off worse things.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I say we cross that bridge when we come to it. Piru has to be stopped. And I’d prefer it to be in a permanent manner.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We could also trap him,” Sam said, the idea just coming to him. “We have the cuffs Mikka used on him, and we have his hideout, that we’ve already surrounded with iron rods. We trap him there, we set fire to the cabin.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean looked thoughtful.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And that’s going to kill him?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If he’s bound and weakened, then yes, it quite probably will.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded, clapping Sam on the shoulder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good work, Sammy. We’ll try this as plan A. If that doesn’t work, I suppose I can try chopping his head off.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam did not ask Dean why he thought he had to be the one to try to kill Piru. He knew why Dean still insisted on placing himself on the line, preferring to risk his life instead of Sam’s. In many ways. Sam appreciated it and accepted it as a part of Dean he could not change. That did not mean he was willing to go along with it, though.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Apostles of Shadow concert went by without Piru showing as much as a hoof. The protection sigils must have worked, then. But they were not going to hold forever. Now the second night of the festival was over, Dean and Sam had to make sure everyone got out of there safely, before the charms wore off and Piru decided to show his face. Of course, getting hyped up fans to go home after what had been an explosive performance from the band was easier said than done. Even when most of them were scattering back to their homes – or to their bars of choice – some still remained, trying to catch the band backstage and corner them for pictures and autographs and mildly embarrassing compliments.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean, the ending of <em>Phantom Desire</em> was pure fire,” an enthusiastic teen was informing Helmi, who was nodding patiently to everything he said. “Those high notes of yours at the end, you sounded like a rocket blasting out into a supernova. It even beats your performance at Waken in 2013 and that one’s got a permanent spot in my YouTube playlist…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean decided it was time to interfere or they would never be able to leave that place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ok, guys,” he said waving his badge. “Why don’t you give Ms. Jokinen a break. I’m sure she’s exhausted and would like to go actually get some rest.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The teens departed grumbling. Helmi winked at Dean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks for that. They were sweet, but they were getting tiresome. Where’s Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Rescuing Elias from a group of screaming fangirls.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Helmi chuckled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He hates that. I assume you want us to head to the hotel and lock ourselves in?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s like you’re reading my mind. The others are already on their way. We get you and Elias there, we can go take care of your little problem. Hopefully, it will all be over by morning.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As he spoke, Dean could not help the nagging feeling that things were about to go very wrong. He did not know if it was his Hunter’s instincts, or something else, but he was becoming more and more afraid that Piru was not going to go down without a fight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxXXXXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam had finally managed to disentangle Elias from the gaggle of swooning teens, much to Elias’ relief.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks,” Elias said. “What are we doing now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam’s eyes narrowed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>We’re </em>not doing anything,” he said. “<em>You </em>are going back to the hotel. Dean and I will go take care of Piru.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias looked indignant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look, I appreciate whatever it is you’re trying to do, but I’m not exactly a civilian.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, that’s exactly what you are. You know about hunting, but you never hunted yourself. And, trust me, you don’t want to start. You get pulled in this life, you won’t be able to get out again. You’ve got a life. Friends. Success. Talent. And you’re not your parents. I don’t think they’d even expect you to be.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias’s eyes bore into Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did this work for you, Sam?” he challenged. “Or have you ever tried telling yourself to stay away?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“More than once,” Sam said curtly. “But you’re not me. And be glad of that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam was about to say more. He froze, though, his skin suddenly tingling. They were not alone, there was something with them. And suddenly, Sam knew who it was. He had felt that presence before back at the cabin. Piru. The protective sigils had worn off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Time to go,” he said, his voice showing he would not accept any more arguments.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hopefully, the others had made it back to the hotel – and, more importantly, hopefully Dean was safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was too late for them, though. Sam noticed Elias’ s eyes widened, as he gaped at something behind them. Sam twisted round, gun in hand. He stood face to face with a tall man, elegantly dressed, a sardonic smile plastered on his pale face. Sam glanced down at his feet and noticed the hooves. Piru had caught them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-the song Phantom Desire is a nod to Ghost Love Score by Nightwish. Their performance of the song at Waken (music festival in Germany) in 2013 is 10 minutes of pure epicness.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam’s gun was already in his hand, aiming it straight at the intruder. Piru smirked, amused, and shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Go ahead,” he taunted Sam. “Pull the trigger. To paraphrase an overused expression: it’s going to hurt you more than it hurts me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam had no doubt the gun would have little to no effect on Piru. But perhaps it would slow him down. Maybe it would give Sam enough time to get Elias out of there. He fired.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Several things happened then, one after the other. Piru disappeared. There was a rush of air and then Sam suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He heard Elias gasp behind him. Sam staggered, lowering the gun. Piru had turned the bullet back on him. He’d shot himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias was by Sam in a flash, trying to offer him help, although he sounded ten seconds away from a full-blown panic attack. Sam breathed through the pain and the fire in his shoulder, knowing he had to pull himself together. Now was their chance. Before Piru came back. They had to get out of there somehow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your bus,” he gasped, trying to focus his mind on their escape route. “Can you drive it…?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?” Elias exclaimed. “I’ve never…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good enough,” Sam decided. “Let’s go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They ran to the bus, Sam staggering and making an effort not to hold them back. He still needed Elias’s help to climb inside, and he was immensely relieved when he could finally sink in the chair next to the driver’s seat. He watched Elias fumble for several minutes, until the bus finally lurched into motion. Sam dropped his head against the chair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Take us to the hotel, will you?” he instructed. “We’ll regroup with Dean from there.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias nodded. At least he was good at following instructions, if not at driving a bus in a straight line. Sam hoped they could make it to the hotel before they got arrested.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were driving along a narrow street flanked by trees. Sam had no idea how far they were from the hotel – he actually had no idea if Elias even knew where they were going. But at least they were on the move and not sitting targets for Piru.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Suddenly, Sam caught a glimpse of something right in front of their bus. A giant goat, he thought, standing on its hind legs. But the only thing Sam could focus on were its eyes, and they were incredibly human. Elias cursed and swerved abruptly, losing his tenuous control over the bus. The vehicle skidded off the road, slamming itself into the nearest tree. The impact sent Sam forward, doubling the fire and pain in his shoulder. The last thing he registered was the sound of breaking glass. Then, nothing for a long time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean was at the hotel and there was no sign of Sam or Elias. He had managed to convince Helmi to lock herself in her room and not get out for any reason. No doubt any problem would be solved by morning, he had told her, which he knew she accepted only temporarily. With Elias missing, her and the rest of the band were on edge, and Dean could not really blame them. After all, he had lost track of Sam, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean tried Sam’s number several times. He also dialed Elias’s, without success. He shook his head. Sam would have answered if he could have. The thought was enough to make Dean’s heart shrink with worry. He shouldn’t have left Sam alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXXXxxxxxxx</p>
<p>The first thing Sam was aware of was the pain. His shoulder was on fire. He was lying on something hard and it was cold. And he was sure the hands currently on him did not belong to Dean. That was never a good combination for hm. He woke up with his defensive instincts on full alert, blindly raising one hand to push away at whoever was with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Whoa, hey!” he heard a vaguely familiar voice close to him. “Look, I’m trying to help you, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t damage me in the process.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam struggled to get his eyes open. He focused his attention on Elias kneeling over him. Sam noticed he was pale, with a jagged cut on his forehead. The bus crash, Sam remembered now. They weren’t on the bus, though. They were in a dark room with a low stone ceiling. And they were alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where’s Dean?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not here,” Elias replied tersely. “And before you ask, I’ve got no idea where here is. Some kind of cellar. Look, I’ve got to check your shoulder. Promise you’ll let me without trying to break my nose this time?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He really hated having anyone but Dean’s hands on him when he was in that much pain. But he recognized the need for medical attention – or the next best thing. He nodded curtly and tried to focus on something other than Elias making the pain in his shoulder ten times worse as he was checking the gunshot wound.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Perkele</em>!” Elias hissed, then seemed to get a hold of himself and tried to smile reassuringly. “It’s…uh…it’s not as bad as it looks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Sam would have probably been at least half convinced, if Elias had not chosen that moment to dissolve into a stream of words Sam could not for the life of him understand, but was sure some of them would have impressed even Dean, had he known their meaning. He shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re swearing in your native language. You’re not giving me a straight answer. I think I can tell it’s as bad as it looks. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had much worse.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias gave him a strange, unreadable look.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m sure you have.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, what happened?” Sam prompted. “I remember we were on the bus, then you swerved, trying to avoid…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Piru,” Elias said promptly. “That was Piru in goat form and I swerved instead of driving straight over him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam closed his eyes wearily.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If it makes you feel any better, I doubt you driving over him would have done any good. Don’t worry. Dean will find us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was not surprised to hear Elias’s snort – although he was a little insulted on Dean’s behalf. But really, Sam could hardly expect a stranger who had just met them the night before to have the same unwavering faith in Dean Sam had.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean has no idea where we are,” Elias pointed out. “<em>We </em>have no idea where we are.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Probably somewhere with Piru, Sam thought. And probably they should start devising an escape plan themselves. If only he could get himself to think clearly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He flinched when he felt Elias prodding him on his good arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“At least stay awake,” Elias said. “You die while I’m here and if Dean does find us, I’ve got a feeling he’ll tear me limb from limb.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Well, at least Elias was a good judge of character, Sam thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What happened to <em>it’s not as bad as it looks</em>?” Sam challenged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just covering all the bases,” Elias said, going to sit against the wall opposite Sam. “We might be in you’re a long night.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That much was true. Sam could not figure out what Piru’s game was this time. He could have killed them after the bus crash. Instead he took them prisoners. Why? What did he stand to gain from holding them captive?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean stood in front of the crashed bus. He had doubled back, hoping to meet Sam on the road, when he had spotted the crash site. He had no trouble recognizing the bus as the one Elias had been on a day before. He waved his badge to the police officers gathered around the vehicle and was allowed a look inside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Looks like whoever was inside must have lost control,” one of the officers told Dean. “Probably got spooked by an animal in the middle of the road. Deer sometimes appear unexpectedly from the woods. If you don’t expect them, especially at night, it’s easy to be spooked.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Know anything about the driver?” Dean asked. “Or…I don’t know…if they had a passenger?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think there were two people on the bus. The driver definitely got his bell rung on impact. Passenger was hurt too. Come take a look.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The officer led Dean to the front of the bus. Dean felt the entire world stop for him when he saw the giant blood stain on the seat next to the driver. He could not know for certain that the blood was Sam’s. Except that he did know. Dean could not explain how, but he knew. He took a deep breath to steady himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are they alright?” he asked, hoping he sounded like an impersonal FBI agent and not a worried big brother. “Were they taken to the hospital?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The officer shook his head ruefully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Agent. We could not find them. My best guess is they woke up confused and wondered off. They can’t have gotten far, though. You’re welcome to search with us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean was, however, already heading back to his car. He knew he was not going to find anything close by. There was only one explanation. Piru had taken Sam. And Dean had not been there with him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It might have been a longshot, but Dean decided to check Piru’s cottage in the forest, before he tried anything else. He was sure Sam and Elias were not kept there, but what if Piru had left a sign there that he and Sam had missed that morning? Maybe there was a clue to another location, somewhere Piru might have taken his prisoners.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The cottage was empty. It looked normal this time, with none of the previous malice that had greeted them the first time. The iron rods still stood around it. Piru was weakened then, but Dean had no idea if that meant anything. He had the sneaking suspicion that Piru had powers enough to spare.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a laptop on the table where Piru’s souvenirs had been laid out. Someone had stuck a piece of paper with Dean’s name on it. Dean did a double take. He had not expected that kind of open acknowledgement from Piru and wondered if this was not a trap to keep him distracted. But it could also be information about Sam, and it was not the first time Dean had risked everything to get to Sam. He strode towards the laptop and switched it on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The image of an elegantly-dressed young man appeared on the screen. He looked normal at first glance, but there was something about him that screamed “not human” for those who had eyes to see.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Hello, Dean Winchester</em>,” the man greeted. “<em>I must say, I never expected to stand in the presence of such legends as you and your brother. Oh, yes, I know about you. Every supernatural being in every corner of the world has heard about the Winchester brothers. You’re our bogeymen. We keep our children in line with stories about your…exploits. Some hate your guts. Personally, I’m in awe. You’ve accomplished so much, I can’t help but respect you.”</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Piru leaned back, folding his hands in his lap. He looked at the camera and smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>I’ve felt you ever since I reached the States, you know. You and your brother have been touched by all sorts of weird stuff. Hell, angels, demons. That thing draws those like me to you like a magnet. And imagine my surprise when the feeling intensified. There you were, in the same town with me. I had to break free of Mikka’s ridiculous bonds. After all, a chance for a face off with the famous Winchesters. Who could say they’d ever done that?”</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>“Not many who are left alive,” Dean could not help commenting. “You won’t be, either, when I’m done with you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“A challenge isn’t a challenge if the game isn’t fair for both sides, though,” </em>Piru went on. “<em>So, I’m going to be fair with you, Dean. By now you’re aware I’ve got your brother. Somewhere in this room you’ll find a map. Well, more of a code I suppose. It will lead you to Sam’s location. Figure it out, and you might see Sam again. I won’t guarantee the game will be over, then. But, as I said, I’ll give you a fair fight. Somehow, I think it’s more than you’d have given me, if you two would have gotten the drop on me first. Oh, and just in case I haven’t given you motivation enough – you’ve got until sunrise to find Sam. I won’t do anything to him – but let’s say the place where he’s now might get a little…stuffy as time passes. So unless you want your brother and your civilian friend to run out of air – I’d hurry. Good luck, Dean. I sincerely hope you’ll give me a good game.”</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>The recording ended. Dean cursed. If he got his hands on Piru, he’d show him what it meant to play such games with the Winchesters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don’t know enough about us, you son of a bitch,” he muttered. “You’ve crossed a line and there’s no going back for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxxXXXXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, tell me more about yourself.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam peered at Elias, confused by the unexpected request.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uhh, I don’t know how to say this, Elias, but you’re not really my type. Not to mention this isn’t exactly the time and the place.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias stared at him confused, then his eyes widened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What? Man, I’m not trying to make a move on you. We’ve got to keep ourselves from falling asleep somehow. I figured you wouldn’t be interested in drunk rowdy night number 60 from our previous tour…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, that’s more Dean’s thing,” Sam admitted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And I’m sure your life’s anything but boring. I bet you’ve got plenty of stories to tell.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam called this the understatement of the century.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“None of my stories are actually suitable when we’re sitting here in the dark waiting for a crazy forest demon to come play with us,” he said. “Trust me, you don’t want to know. And I don’t really want to tell.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias did not look surprised – only a little disappointed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I was sure you’d say that. Can I say something, though? See, you gave my adopted Dad your real last name. and, you know, he kept himself up to date with the Hunter community. And, apparently, the name Winchester has reached even our small corner of the world.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam stiffened. Hunters who heard about them rarely focused on the good things. He still remembered Gordon – and the others.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He said you freed the devil once,” Elias went on, seemingly not noticing Sam’s discomfort. “And then cast yourself into hell with him to stop him from ending the world.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam recalled Asa Fox’s funeral and that Hunter’s eager, excited face when he had asked what being possessed by Lucifer had felt like. Since when had his traumas become a sensational source of entertainment to people who could not in a million years understand what he had gone through?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I definitely don’t want to talk about that,” he said coldly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias actually looked insulted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jesus, I’m not trying to ask you to give me the gory details. I know that’s not my place. I’m just…I’m trying to say thank you, alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took a while for Sam to process what Elias was trying to say.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are you thanking me for?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come on – you can’t tell me I’m the first guy who actually came to you and said thanks for sacrificing yourself to save the world. I mean…really? Are we having a culture clash moment? Don’t you guys say thank you in America?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam did not know how to tell Elias that it was more that people did not say thank you to the Winchesters. And Sam had certainly never expected to be thanked – Lucifer had been his mess in the first place, and it had not even been his last mess. He wondered if Elias found out about Amara, would he say thank you then, too?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He could not deny that the words brought him a certain amount of comfort, though. He did not think he deserved them, but they felt good. It felt nice for a change, not to be considered the monster, or the abomination, or that weird guy who’d been possessed by the Devil himself and lived to tell the tale.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was then that the heavy door to their makeshift cell was pushed open. Piru walked in. he broke into a delighted grin when he saw his two prisoners were both awake.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, look at you,” he said. “I was afraid I wasn’t going to get the chance to speak to you. You know, before I sealed you in and let you suffocate in here.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Perkele is the Finnish equivalent of the English "Damn it"</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Piru had reverted back to his original form. He still had his hooves, though.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Neat trick out there with the bus,” Sam said. “I had no idea you could shape shift like that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can take any form I want,” he said. “Comes in handy sometimes. For example – I can rattle the two of you more.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His image seemed to fade in a fog. When it dissipated, Helmi Jokinen stood in front of them. Sam saw Elias clench his jaw.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What exactly do you think you’re going to accomplish with that?” Elias asked, his voice trembling slightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru looked at his new body, shrugging.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, with this form? Nothing, really. This is just a warm-up. Although, if I show myself as Helmi to you, maybe I can show myself to Helmi looking like you. She’d trust me, then. It’s easy to catch someone off guard when you look like a person they generally trust.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias took a deep breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You wouldn’t do anything to Helmi,” he said, trying to sound confident. “You had plenty of chances to hurt her – you had <em>orders </em>to hurt her, and you didn’t. You’ve got no reason to hurt her now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru hesitated, then shrugged, disinterestedly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, you’re right. I wouldn’t. Nothing to be got out of it, except your misery and I’m not really interested in that.” He paused and turned to Sam. “As for <em>you</em>…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you think you’re going to rattle me by turning into Dean, save it,” Sam said quickly. “Trust me, that’s not a trick that will work on me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The smirk Piru gave him did not suit Helmi’s face at all. Sam suddenly felt cold.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course it wouldn’t,” Piru said. “But I know something else that probably will.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru changed again. Sam froze. He should have expected Piru to use <em>that form</em>. To Elias, it probably looked innocuous. To Sam, it was literally his worst nightmare made flesh. No matter how many vessels Lucifer used, Sam would always associate Nick’s face with him. For an instant, he fought to regain his breath and not let terror completely overwhelm him. He tried to appear unconcerned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re not him,” he said coldly. “Trust me, you don’t even come close.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru shifted back to his original form.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, you’re right,” he said. “I’m not Lucifer – wouldn’t even want to be. Personally, I always thought he lacked subtlety. Too much brute force, too little creativity. Don’t you agree, Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam refused to rise to the bait.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course,” Piru went on thoughtfully. “You did look pretty rattled when you saw me, and I must confess I did feel a bit of enjoyment. Causing pain in such obvious ways is really not my type. It’s crude and a little amateurish. I do apologize for the discomfort.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sure you’re broken up about it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not really,” Piru admitted. “More ashamed for having stooped so low, to tell you the truth. I liked to give my opponent a fair fight, otherwise the game isn’t a good game for me. As I’ve already told your brother.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The terror that clutched at Sam’s heart this time was ten times worse. Seeing Piru take on Lucifer’s form could not even come close to the panic that his careless remark brought to him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What did you do to Dean?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru tried to assume a reassuring posture. It did not look real on him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing, Sam. I’ve done nothing to your brother, for the simple reason that I haven’t actually been anywhere near him. I did leave him a message, though. An invitation to play my game.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why would he do that?” Elias demanded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru rolled his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe because I told him that if he doesn’t find you in time you’ll both be dead of suffocation. I figured that would be a good enough prize for him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>I’m </em>a good enough prize for him,” Sam said. “Let Elias go. He’s got nothing to do with this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Except he kind of does. It’s because of him I’m here. That idiot child bound me to him because he wanted revenge on Elias and his family. And now we come to the fact that Elias comes from a family of Hunters, and I never miss a chance to mess with Hunters – and their relatives. Sorry, Sam, Elias stays.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s ok,” Elias quipped. “I didn’t really want to leave anyway. I’ve started to grow fond of this place.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shot Elias a warning look. He had been relieved, in a way, that Dean wasn’t there with him during their encounter with Piru, knowing his brother’s penchant to antagonize everyone that challenged him. He did not want to worry about the same thing coming from a civilian.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Besides,” Piru added, ignoring Elias. “You might want to have a sounding board during the next part of my game. See, it would not be fair to challenge only Dean. I want to be pitted against both Winchesters.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then come closer,” Sam challenged. “See how that works out for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru snickered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve already told you I prefer brains over brawn, Sam. Here’s how this is going to work. I’ll lock you in and, yes, air supply is going to be limited – sorry about that. There are, however, clues in this room to help you get out. And you might want to break free before Dean gets here. He’ll need to be warned.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam’s anxiety, quieted after Piru had assured him he had not been anywhere near Dean, skyrocketed again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Warned about what?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s say there will be some surprises waiting for him once he gets here. If he’s not careful, if he’s, let’s say, distracted because he’s worried about his little brother locked up and in danger of dying – well, things might not go well for him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He nodded curtly to the two, then turned to leave when Elias called him back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look, Sam’s injured,” he said. “You shot him. What if he doesn’t give you the challenging game you want? Let him go.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shook his head quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, really, Elias…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, you two are actually cute, in an irritating sort of way. The answer is no, Elias. First off, I did not shoot Sam. He did it himself. I warned him not to shoot. Second – Sam’s the main attraction here. The game’s not good enough for me if I don’t have both Winchesters in my sights. Besides, a simple shoulder wound is never going to slow Sammy down, will it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam grimaced.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Call me that one more time and you’ll find out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru rolled his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suggest you conserve your air from now on,” he said, before turning to leave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Hal’s Diner was open twenty-four hours, which was a good thing as Dean needed a place to do his research until he was able to locate Sam. He had no trouble finding the so-called map Piru had left him in the cottage, but did not feel comfortable checking it out there. He was too on the alert in that place, and he needed somewhere he could focus only on the map. He had debated going to the hotel, but he was sure he would be found by Helmi there, or by someone else from the band demanding to know where their keyboard player was. Dean was sure they were not going to take too kindly to the information that Elias was currently held prisoner somewhere and that he was running out of air. Dean did not need the worry of civilians right now. He was worried enough himself, after all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The “map” Piru had left him turned out to be a representation of the Solar System. Dean was pretty sure that was a code for something else. Not that he did not think Piru was incapable of tossing Sam somewhere in space, but he did promise Dean a fair fight. Whatever he was looking at, whatever the planets stood for, it had to be in town.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean briefly debated taking a picture and sending to Castiel or to Mary. Two heads were better than one, after all, and they needed speed to locate Sam in time. He eventually decided not to. Piru had not explicitly forbidden him from seeking out help, but he had said he wanted to play against the Winchester brothers. Dean did not want to risk Sam’s life by unknowingly breaking the rules of the game.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Besides, it wasn’t as if Dean was not good at this kind of thing. He might have left the research bits to Sam, mainly because Sam’s mind worked sometimes in ways that amazed even Dean (and because it obviously made Sammy happy, but you were not going to ever catch Dean admitting that out loud to anyone, not even under torture). That did not mean he did not have some strategies for research and solving puzzles of his own. He might have preferred action, but his mind could work quite well, especially with the right motivation. And there was no higher motivation than Sam’s safety.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean checked the map once more. It was handwritten. He had already checked it against other maps of the solar system and, as far as he could tell, it was accurate. No deliberate mistakes that would have pointed him in the right direction, then. So maybe the planets represented places in town. He just had to figure out which.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve really picked the wrong people to mess with, you bastard,” Dean muttered darkly, thinking about what he was going to do to Piru when all this was over.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The waitress passed his table and refilled his coffee without Dean asking. He nodded tiredly without looking up. He heard her huff – probably she had been hoping Dean was up to a little fun, since he had been winking at her like crazy the previous times he had been there. But Dean’s mind had only room for Sam right now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His phone rang. He glanced at it and noticed it was an unknown number. For a moment, he had half a mind not to answer. He did not need some random stranger hassling him right now. Still, he knew better than to ignore calls while on a hunt. He took the call.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who’s this?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>I take it you’ve got my message by now?”</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Dean tensed. He had no trouble recognizing the voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Now, listen here, you son of a bitch,” he began.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Now, now, Dean,” </em>Piru interrupted pleasantly. “<em>There’s no need to be rude. We’re all civilized here, aren’t we?”</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Dean took a deep breath and counted to ten. Now was not the time to antagonize Piru.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let me talk to Sam.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Sammy’s busy conserving oxygen right now. Talking to you isn’t really recommended.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean scowled when he heard Piru refer to his brother as Sammy. It always gave him a visceral anger, whenever their enemies used that name. That was Dean’s name for his brother. A way of showing Sam he was safe. He did not like him when others took that name that held so much history for the two of them and tried to corrupt it for their own devices.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you want, Piru?” he asked at length.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>I already told you what I wanted. For you to play my game. How do you like it so far? Having fun?”</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Dean snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, Piru, I usually get all tingly when some asshat threatens to kill my brother. I suppose you’d say that’s enjoyment.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>I didn’t threaten to kill Sam,” </em>Piru corrected quickly. “<em>Remember this, Dean, I’m a fair person. I won’t kill either of you. If you die, you die. But it won’t be by my hand.”</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>“You’re all heart,” Dean retorted sarcastically.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He did not get any reply back. Piru had hung up. Dean swore and tossed the phone on the table in disgust. He turned his attention back to the drawing. There had to be a way for him to make sense of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXXxxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Years ago, in another lifetime, Sam Winchester had decided to turn his back on what his father and brother called the family business and go to college. He had given himself plenty of reasons why he was doing so – the desire to be normal, to escape the orders barked at him by his father, to make a name for himself instead of living in the shadow of his older, much more skilled brother. But he knew now all those were excuses, just a front for the real reason. The truth was, he had been tired. Tired of never feeling safe. Of the constant paranoia that something was out there in the dark, ready to get him. Of the nauseating fear that the next hunt would be the one where he lost his family and was left alone. He had wanted to feel safe. Plain and simple.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Of course, the years had taught him better. There would always be things out there for him, and, for a while, the notion that he would not be able to escape the hunting life had threatened to overwhelm him. But after so many years – after so many deaths, after Hell, after watching Dean die all those times – Sam had come to a conclusion. It was true that he and Dean would never have safety as it was conventionally defined. But they had found ways to keep each other safe. And that, as far as Sam was concerned, was a victory on their part. He would not ask for more – as long as he knew Dean was safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was why the current situation had him so on edge. It was bad enough that he was locked up somewhere together with a civilian – and Sam had too much history with places from which he could not get out. But he also knew that Dean was out there, looking for him. He knew Dean would find him – and therein lay the problem. Because something was outside that door waiting for Dean. And Sam had no way of warning him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On the bright side, he always got an adrenaline boost when he was that motivated. Sam barely felt his shoulder now, except that he knew it was bleeding and probably not good, and he was aware he was getting a little lightheaded. Of course, that could just be the lack of oxygen. Piru never mentioned how much air they had, and it always went faster when there were two people breathing it instead of just one. But he had enough willpower to keep himself on his feet and he knew he would not rest until Dean was safe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam staggered up and moved to explore their prison. The walls were made of concrete. Hard, cold, and unyielding. There were no windows, as he had already known. The place was only slightly bigger than the average motel room. Sam finally found the door. It was heavy and made of steel. He pushed against it, but nothing happened. Then he spotted the buttons on the wall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You said we’re in a cellar,” he told Elias.”We’re actually in some kind of vault. I’ve got a panel here. I assume we can open the door from the inside – if we enter the right combination.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There are an infinite number of possible combinations,” Elias pointed out wearily. “The chances of us figuring out the right one are….not good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And that would have been true, if they were talking about a random combination. But Sam was beginning to see that Piru was anything but random.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sure we just have to figure this out,” he said. “Don’t worry, though, I’m plenty motivated.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He sensed Elias’ assessing gaze but was not really in the mood to explain himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know,” Elias said thoughtfully. “My adopted father said that there were all kinds of rumors about you two.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So you mentioned,” Sam muttered curtly because he did not want to discuss his colorful career while he was locked in a dark vault waiting to suffocate to death and knowing that Dean was in danger.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They say it’s like you two have built-in magnets when it comes to each other,” Elias went on, seemingly unable to take a hint. “That even when you’re both placed on opposite sides of the world, you can’t help but seek each other out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam huffed. He and Dean had not tested that particular theory yet, but Sam could say with reasonable certainty that it was probably true.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ve been called unhealthily codependent lots of times,” he commented. “But never before in such poetic language.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I never called it unhealthy,” Elias protested. “I’m not one to put labels on human behavior. And I definitely would not presume to put on yours. I haven’t been through what you’ve been through. Also, <em>greater love has no man</em>, and all that. It’s really comforting to see two people willing to sacrifice so much for each other. Gives me hope for the human race. Makes everything brighter.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That would be the euphoria which is a symptom of oxygen deprivation,” Sam quipped. “ Now come here and help me with something. Give me important dates in Finnish history. Maybe Piru was feeling patriotic. Let’s see if we can find us the right combination.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It did not take long for Dean to realize that the map of the Solar System did not represent any coordinates in town. He needed a different approach. He abandoned the drawing altogether and looked for isolated abandoned buildings where you could hold someone against their will without drawing attention. And then he found it – a sort of would-be entertainment complex that had never been finished called Galactic Fun. That had to be it. Most of the buildings had been damaged by a fire, but one of them still stood. It was called Sunnyside. Dean shook his head, gazing at the drawing of the Solar System. Piru had a twisted sense of humor, he’d give him that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Several seconds later, the Impala was flying away from Hal’s diner towards the opposite side of the town.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxXXXXXXXXxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam leaned against the wall next to the panel, blinking away the dizziness. At this point, he had no idea if it was the blood loss or the lack of air that was making the numbers on the panel swim in front of his eyes. Elias had given up standing and now leaned against the wall, his head in his hands. Sam briefly debated going to see if he was awake, then decided there wasn’t really any point in it. There were still stuck in the vault and still running out of air. If they were going to suffocate anyway, maybe it was better not to be conscious for it. Sam was highly tempted to give in himself – but Piru’s warning about Dean kept him on his feet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His initial idea had proven to be wrong. Piru had, apparently, not been feeling patriotic. The dates had nothing to do with the history of Finland. Sam was beginning to think this was not like Piru at all. He taunted his opponents. So what if the combination to open the door was actually a date important to the Winchesters?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam tried Dean’s birthday, then his own, then Dad’s and Mom’s and even Jess’ for good measure. Not that he had really expected Piru to pick something as sunny as birthdays. The date of Dean’s return from Hell also did not work. And maybe his problem was that he was thinking in positive terms. If Piru wanted to rattle Sam, he would not use the good days. He would use something to remind Sam of his losses – and his failures.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s quite a long list,” Sam muttered. “Quite a lot of bad days to choose from.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The day their Mom died. The day Jess died. Sam’s first death. The day Dean went to Hell. So much darkness to choose from and so little time to try it all out. And every minute brought Dean closer to whatever was waiting for him out there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam leaned his head against the heavy door. If only he could just will it open, that would have made everything easier. Of course, with how he was feeling now, even if he had his psychic powers, he wouldn’t have the energy to do much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A crash from outside had him on high alert. It could have been anything. It could have indeed been only a hallucination brought on by lack of oxygen. And yet, Sam knew that there was only one thing that could really be. Dean. Dean was there. And Sam had yet to find a way out to warn his brother.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He frantically banged his good hand against the heavy door. He knew he could not waste his breath on shouting – and if Dean really was out there, he probably could not hear him anyway. But Sam could not help himself:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean!” he shouted. “Dean, watch out!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam’s fingers were on the panel, quickly typing what he was sure was the right combination. Because he was feeling the same terror he had felt all those years ago in Bower County, the day he had been forced to watch Dean die over and over. He thought he knew Piru’s mind-games by now. This had to open the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxxXXXXXXXxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean parked the car haphazardly in front of the empty building and was out before the engine had fully stopped running. He burst in, gun in hand. The place was dark and he nearly slammed into pieces of broken furniture. He spotted the door to a vault and his heart started beating faster. He was sure he had found Sam. As he approached, he heard banging on the door from the inside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam?” he asked cautiously, even though he doubted Sam could hear him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Something screamed at him that he should be careful, that he should look out. Later, Dean was unable to tell if it had been his Hunter instincts warning him something was not right, or if he had actually heard Sam telling him it was a trap. He spun round, his eyes widening at what was in front of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh crap!”  he exclaimed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>Dean gaped at the figure snarling at him. It looked like a hellhound – only, it couldn’t have been, because Dean couldn’t have seen it then, since he was reasonably sure he had not made any deals recently. He briefly wondered how capable Piru was of bending reality. Not that it mattered, though. Even if the hellhound was not real, Dean was pretty sure its bite would be. He aimed his gun and fired.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The hellhound disappeared as soon as Dean’s bullet touched it. Dean had no idea if the bullet had done any damage. He held his breath for several seconds, wanting to catch even the smallest hint that the creature was still around. Everything felt suddenly eerily silent. That was never a good sign.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then he twisted round, gun in hand at the sound of the heavy door opening. His gun dropped immediately when he spotted Sam, standing in the doorway, bloody and leaning heavily against the wall, but alive. Then Sam’s relieved expression twisted into something horrified, his eyes fixed on something over Dean’s shoulder. He gasped his brother’s name.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was all the warning Dean needed. He twisted round to find the hellhound ready to pounce on him. Dean fired again and the thing disappeared. He turned to Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I thought I was the one who was supposed to be rescuing you,” he quipped.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam grinned tiredly, still trying to catch his breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve got lousy timing,” he pointed out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He glanced back at Elias, who was staggering up, taking greedy gulps of air. Then he turned back to Dean to meet his brother’s frowning expression.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Since when does Piru control hellhounds?” Dean asked. “And since when can you just see hellhounds?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t think that was a hellhound. Piru can shapeshift, Dean. He crashed our bus by appearing in front of it as a large goat. Then he was playing head games with Elias, showing himself as Helmi.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He then apparently changed into Satan,” Elias announced coming closer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean’s eyes widened. Sam frowned, silently telegraphing to Elias that he should mind his own business. Elias shrugged innocently.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I thought Dean might like to know I wasn’t the only one Piru was playing head games with.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s right, I really want to know,” Dean said quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He strode towards Sam and put a hand on his good shoulder. He eyed his brother critically. Sam was standing on his own, but that was not saying much. He’d seen Sam standing on his own after being tortured. Sometimes Dean thought his brother had too much willpower and too little sense of self-preservation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That bastard said he didn’t hurt you,” he snarled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam huffed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Technically he didn’t. I’m the one who shot. Well, I shot at him, but it somehow ended up coming back to me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean scowled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He did hurt you. When I get my hands on him…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, do continue that delightful line of thought, Dean,” a voice sounded from behind them. “I’m actually curious to hear what you think you can do to me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They all turned to see Piru leaning against the wall, looking faintly bored.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Congratulations, I suppose. You both performed admirably. It was fun.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, if you enjoyed yourself so much, what are you going to do now?” Sam challenged. “Are you going to let us go?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It was a good game, Sammy, but not that good. I don’t think I should let you go anywhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That wasn’t the deal,” Dean pointed out. “You said you’d give us a fair chance.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru nodded, disengaging himself from the wall and approaching the three.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I did say that,” he conceded. “I said that I would not hurt you and would not stand in the way of you finding Sam – or of Sam getting out and warning you that you were in danger. How did you like my hellhounds, by the way? Were they close to the real thing? I haven’t seen a hellhound in a thousand years, you know. I don’t usually mingle with demons.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Dean taunted. “So, what now? You’re going to welch on our deal?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru’s eyes narrowed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There was no deal, Dean. <em>Don’t make deals with the Winchesters</em>. It’s one of our ten commandments. They always go apocalyptically wrong.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He looked at the three of them and shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The terms of the game were that I would not stand in the way of you finding each other. I never said anything about what I’d do when that happened. See, I’m still bored, and you’re still entertaining. So, we can play some more. Or – I can stop it now. And you’ll be victims four, five, and six of the mysterious Gatlinburg eye-snatcher. Which one will it be, boys?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean had moved slightly in front of Sam and Elias. He was fumbling with something in his pocket. In a quick flash, he took it out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How about neither?” he suggested, tossing the object at Piru. “Catch.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru instinctively extended his arms and grabbed the Rubik cube in mid-air. He paled when he realized what he had done.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No,” he said, his eyes already on the puzzle. “No, you did not do this to me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I told Sammy time and time again being a nerd doesn’t pay off. Have fun solving that thing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru scowled, but he was clearly having trouble focusing on anything other than the puzzle in his hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ll pay for this,” he threatened.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He vanished before their eyes. Dean turned to the other.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Now’s our chance. Let’s get the hell out of here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He grabbed Sam, to help him move faster along and they all ran out the door and towards the car. Dean settled in the driver seat with Sam next to him and Elias in the back. He sped out into the night.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Quick thinking there, Dean,” Elias said, glancing back. There was no sign of Piru, yet. “What now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean glanced at Sam. He was sitting upright in the passenger seat, his face pale and drawn, but his look stubborn and determined. Sam would back him up if there was another confrontation with Piru and he would definitely not allow himself to be left behind. But Sam also needed his wound tended to, and they needed to think of a plan.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’re going back to your hotel,” he said at length. “Drop you off and take care of Sam.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m fine, Dean,” Sam interjected.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ll spend some hours to regroup,” Dean went on, ignoring Sam’s protests with practiced ease. “Then, Sam and I are going to stop Piru once and for all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How?” Sam asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean’s grin had something wild in it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Piru can’t resist a challenging game. I say we give him one he won’t be able to handle.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They reached the hotel and Elias led them to his room. Dean had snagged the medicine kit from the car and was now setting up shop. Elias eyed Sam speculatively.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Doesn’t he need a doctor?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam?” Dean prompted, indicating that the decision was, ultimately, his.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shook his head, smiling briefly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m fine, really.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean turned to Elias.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s fine,” he repeated. “Let us have this room to ourselves for a while?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias hesitated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t you need my help?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean glanced at Sam who shook his head briefly. Dean understood. They took care of each other better when it was just the two of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He doesn’t really like an audience when I’m digging bullets out of him,” Dean insisted. “Go. Check up on Helmi. She’s probably worried sick about you by now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias shrugged but left, never once reminding the two they were actually kicking him out of his own room. Dean turned to Sam, all business-like.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come on,” he urged. “Let’s have a look at that shoulder.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean, I’m fine,” Sam tried. “I can take care of it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean would not have it – not that Sam had expected anything else, but it was always worth a try.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Humor me, Sam. Sit down and let me have a look at you before you bleed to death.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Dean worked on his shoulder, he kept muttering insults at Piru and grumbling about Sam, because he surely had done something stupid to get in this mess, he always did, after all. His movements, however, were careful and gentle, and Sam wondered if Dean even knew how reassuring he could be when he got like this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So,” Dean said at length. “Piru showed up as Lucifer?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam tried hard not to stiffen. It wasn’t exactly the conversation he wanted to have when his brother was digging a bullet out of him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Piru’s not Lucifer. I told him that, and he admitted it himself. He was just trying to rattle me…damn!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The burst of pain as Dean finally got the bullet out of his shoulder had him nearly rearing back. Dean had anticipated that already and held him in place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Almost done,” he assured him. “Then you can rest for a few.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam swallowed harshly, trying not to be sick.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about Piru? You said something about a challenge.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded darkly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ll lure him to his cabin. Chop off his head.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Given what had happened to him when he had tried to harm Piru, Sam wanted to be extra sure they would not end up with their own heads chopped off before they tried this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There’s a book on forest demons at the Bunker,” he said. “Call Cas if he’s there and have him check if there’s anything about Piru in it. We need to be sure we’ve got the right intel, Dean. No one has gone against Piru, not for hundreds of years. We can’t try something that might backfire on us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean searched Sam’s face with that measuring look of his, the one that had Sam thinking that maybe his brother could read minds – or, better said, could read <em>his </em>mind. He didn’t want Dean to know Piru’s head games had indeed succeeded in rattling him, reminding him of all the possible ways he could lose Dean. Reminding him that the fear was always there, at the back of his mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright,” Dean agreed. “But you’re taking one hour to sleep this off.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It would probably take more than an hour to sleep off a bullet wound and near suffocation, but Sam had long learned to take what he could get.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lucky for them, Castiel was at the Bunker. Dean put in a call while Sam was asleep and waited to see what the books said. Sam was awake again when Castiel called back with news that was not really as good as they had hoped. Beheading could indeed kill Piru, but only if one had a special blade dipped in a complex potion whose key ingredient was the heart of a Finnish forest reindeer – no other species of reindeer would do. Given that they were quite a long way from Finland – and that they were an endangered species– that course of action was pretty much impossible.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The good news was that trapping Piru in his cabin and setting it on fire would be more effective. It would not kill Piru, but it would keep him sort of trapped between dimensions, and he would not be able to harm anyone again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t like this,” Dean declared. “I mean, can’t he be set free?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Anything can be set free, Dean,” </em>Castiel replied. “<em>However, freeing Piru would require the right kind of circumstances and a very complex spell being performed. Not a lot of people would know it.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean looked at Sam who shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s a solution,” he said. “Not the best one but…it will work. If something happens and Piru does get free…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded grimly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We’ll take care of it,” he agreed. “Good then. You ready to get this show on the road?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam grinned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You mean send Piru a message and invite him to play a game on our own terms? I’m actually looking forward to it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was around 3 a.m. when Sam and Dean got into the Impala, prepared for their final confrontation with Piru. They did not inform Elias they were going – he would probably have insisted on coming along with them, and they were never comfortable having civilians on their hunts. Besides, it was fun, being just the two of them. It reminded them of the early days.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As they drove, Dean glanced at Sam. His face was still somewhat pale, and Dean would have really liked to give his brother some more time to rest. But Sam’s eyes were gleaming with determination and with something else, the look he always got when they were closing in on a hunt. The look Dean was sure could be seen on his face as well. He grinned, feeling the excitement taking hold of him. So many years and so many trials, and somehow this right there, the two of them about to fight some evil bastard, was all the enjoyment Dean needed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You ready, Sammy?” he asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam returned his look.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Always,” he said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And Dean knew his brother was feeling the same thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They sped up into the darkness so close to dawn. The forest awaited them – and their final confrontation with Piru.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-Finnish forest reindeer is a species of reindeer native to Finland and parts of Russia. They’re smaller than other reindeer and are on the endangered species list (there were only about 2000 of them left in 2013). You didn’t think I was going to make it easy for our boys, did you?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean parked the Impala close to the forest outside the town. There was no one else on the road at that hour. The silence felt vaguely unsettling. Like some great reckoning was coming.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The forest seemed to recognize them, as if acknowledging they had to be there. Piru’s influence was still felt as a vague presence in the wind. But it was hard to tell if his will was really bent against the Winchesters.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam and Dean had sent Piru a message on the number he had used to call Dean. They had kept it simple: <em>Meet us at your cabin for a new game. We’ll settle the score there</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What if he realizes it’s a trap?” Dean wanted to know.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, he knows it’s a trap,” Sam replied. “But he’ll be there anyway. He can’t help himself. We issued a challenge to him, after all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They had. But that did not mean Piru was going to play fair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He probably already has his own tricks up his sleeve,” Dean said. “He’s anticipating us going in that cabin together, and he’s probably already thinking of a way to turn the tables on us. He won’t let us see our plan through.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam glanced at Dean. He knew his brother was not saying all these things just to prove how pessimistic he could get.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m guessing you have something in mind?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded grimly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s call it plan C,” he said. “And my plan Cs always work.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam refrained from commenting that Dean’s plan Cs were also the ones that usually nearly got them killed. But Dean’s desperate recklessness had kept them alive in the past.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, what are you thinking?” he asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxxxXXXXXxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The cabin was quiet and dark. The iron rods still stood guard around it. Piru was probably unable to touch them. Not that it mattered too much. He might not have given the Winchesters the full experience of his powers, but even weakened by the rods, he was strong enough to be a menace.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam pushed the door open quietly. He had not really agreed to Dean’s plan, but he had been forced to acknowledge it was the best they had. At least their rock-paper-scissors session had ensured Sam would be the one going inside first. He knew Piru was waiting. He knew that whoever walked through that door would find themselves a target of Piru’s head games.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Reality shifted in front of Sam’s eyes. The cabin vanished. Instead, he found himself alone in a dark corridor. There were doors on either side of him. All were closed. He debated opening one. Perhaps it would take him back to the cabin. Then he dismissed the idea. He did not want to see what Piru had prepared for him in those rooms. Anyway, his role was to keep Piru engaged for as long as possible. Which meant playing his game.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took several steps until he heard something up ahead. A child crying. Without thinking, Sam headed in that direction, quickening his pace. He hoped Piru had not resorted to kidnapping children. That would make things more difficult, considering their plan of action.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Further ahead there was an open door. The lights inside were dim. The crying came from there. Sam made his way towards it and stopped dead in the threshold. There was a young boy there, and he couldn’t be more than four years old. He was crying as if his heart would break, but Sam knew he could not be real. Because he recognized the boy. He had seen him in photographs, after all. Dean. This was Dean at four, and judging from the soot on his torn clothes, it must have been immediately after the fire.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before he could stop himself and think rationally about what he was seeing, Sam took a step inside the room. The image shifted before his eyes and now he could see Dean as an older child, counting money that would not be enough to feed the both of them. Then he changed into a version from several years later, when Sam had run away at Flagstaff, and then Sam got to see the desolation in his brother’s eyes the night he had left for Stanford.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And it went on, the images always changing, but always Dean, always the hurts he had suffered, even the ones of long ago Sam had hoped they had both put behind them – Roosevelt asylum, and their dead dying, and then Sam the first time and on and on, Sam got a front row seat to his brother’s suffering while he stood there rooted to the spot, having completely forgotten the reason he was there in the first place.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He got as far as a series of images of Dean in Hell when he finally staggered out of the room and leaned against the wall. His hands were shaking, and he was sure there were tears in his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Enjoyed that little trip down memory lane?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam struggled to put himself together and disengaged himself from the wall, gun at the ready. He was back in the cabin and Piru was smirking at him from across the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do hope you won’t try to shoot me again,” he said. “I would have figured you’ve learned your lesson by now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the hell did you just do?” Sam asked, still shaken, still unable to get the images of Dean suffering out of his mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, that?” Piru asked lazily. “Just a little greeting. I know you’re here to kill me, Sam. Or trap me. That was self-defense.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What you showed me…” Sam began.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru interrupted chuckling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Made an impression, didn’t it? Remember when I told you Lucifer lacked subtlety and imagination? In all that time he had you in the Cage – how long was it, by the way? 100 years? More?  - in all that time he was focused on <em>your</em> pain. Even when he did show himself as Dean – which I bet he did often – it was only to show you that Dean was disappointed in you, or mad at you. He always showed Dean in relation to you. I wonder why he never tried to simply show you what I’ve shown you. I wonder how he didn’t figure out that you seeing your brother in pain would have broken you much quicker than anything he would have done to you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam looked away. He could not deny anything that Piru was saying.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Where is Dean, by the way?” Piru asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Safe,” Sam said shortly. “You’re dealing with me now. You’re right about one thing – I don’t want to see my brother placed in harm’s way. And I won’t let you anywhere near him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam, you are aware that, once I’m finished with you, Dean’s next on the list? It’s a matter of principle.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why do this, though?” Sam demanded. “Why not let it go? Just head back to Finland, and we’ll call it quits.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru threw back his head and laughed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam, I’m not naïve. You won’t call it quits. Neither will the hunters there now that they know I’m active again. I’ve been eluding them for years before that little ignorant child dared to bind me. No, Sam, I think I’ll try my luck here. I might even gain quite a few supporters – after I dethroned the Winchesters.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam smirked, his hand tightening on the gun.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Try it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was all postulation and he knew it. Piru was bound to see right through it, too. He hoped Dean would be done quickly. Sam did not know how much longer he could keep Piru engaged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We promised you a game, didn’t we?” Sam continued. “A challenge of our own. A battle of wits. And, if we outsmart you, you get to do what we ask. Isn’t that how it works with you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru tilted his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And if you win, you’ll simply tell me to head back home, no strings attached? Sam, you and your brother have been known to double-cross us before. You don’t intend to have me leave this cabin alive, do you, Sam?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam shook his head at that.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There’s no way to kill you, is there?” he pointed out. “At least, not with anything we can get our hands on quickly. Why are you afraid?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru took a step towards Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Because I know better than to underestimate you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He raised his hand as Sam braced himself for whatever Piru was going to do to him. The backdoor to the cabin opened with a creak followed by the sound of something splashing on the floorboards. Sam’s nose wrinkled as the strong smell of gasoline invaded his nostrils. Still, his posture relaxed. This was what he had been waiting for.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think you did underestimate us, after all,”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean’s voice sounded tight and hard, the voice he used when he was at his most dangerous, the one that had frightened Sam at some point when he had been afraid of Dean becoming something like Gordon Walker, who hunted and killed without discrimination.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“See,” Dean went on, “We figured you’d fixate on whoever walked through that door. And you’d try to mess with them.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you’re in this place surrounded by iron bars that are seeping at your power,” Sam added. “You don’t have the energy to stop an attack on two fronts.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And as clever as you think you are – you don’t know us at all. Yes, we’re both willing to give our lives for each other. But not when there’s a better plan.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru eyed the lit match in Dean’s hand. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That won’t kill me, you know.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded, acknowledging Piru’s words without a fight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It won’t. It will keep you on ice, however – hopefully for good”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Piru raised his eyebrows.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you really believe that? I have allies back home. Friends even more powerful than I am. It might take a while, but once they figure out I’m gone, what do you think they’ll do? Some are not as easy-going as I am. If they find out what you did to me, they’re gonna be pissed. Then they’ll free me, and when I come out of this <em>I’m </em>gonna be pissed.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean and Sam exchanged a brief glance. That was always a risk, that something might come back to bite them, and it had happened so many times that they were used to it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s a chance we’re willing to take,” Sam said. “At least it would keep you out of the way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He flung himself at Piru, fully aware nothing he did could actually cause harm, but his mission was still only to distract and weaken, until Dean had done his own thing and Piru would be powerless, unable to escape. They both crashed to the ground, and Sam struggled to keep Piru immobile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean!” he called to his brother. “Dean, now!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean dropped the match on the floor he had already doused with gasoline.  The flames erupted quickly. Sam sprang up while Piru was still lying on the ground, a confused look in his eyes, as if he could not really believe the Winchesters had played him in such a manner.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam moved away from Piru and headed for the door, knowing they had to get out before the fire engulfed the cabin completely. A shout and a crash from behind made him spin around, in time to see Dean on the ground. Piru had grabbed his ankle and tripped him, clearly intent on trapping Dean with him in the flames.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The fire was now almost completely between Sam and Dean, the smoke blinding and chocking. Sam staggered back against the heat, then shook his head in determination. He ran towards where Dean lay, ducking the flames. He knelt before his dazed brother and pushed him away from Piru, dragging Dean up, holding on to him even when he was sure Dean could stand on his own. The brief journey towards the door felt like an eternity, with the wall of flames rising ever higher.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were out, and Sam flung the door shut, even though he was sure Piru would not be getting out without help. Then, he dragged Dean further away until they were at a safe distance from the cottage. He stopped then, too exhausted to take another step.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean fell to his knees and Sam joined him, still clutching his brother’s jacket. They were both covered in soot and coughing as if their lungs would explode any minute now. But Sam did not care. Because he had managed to pull Dean out of the fire – and he had always wanted to be the one doing that for once.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Dean opened his eyes, he was surprise to see daylight. He was lying in the front seat of the Impala. He sat up to spot Sam in the backseat. Judging by the way his hair was hanging in all directions, he must have just woken up, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Last night became a blur after escaping the flaming cabin. He vaguely remembered reaching the car, and by then he was coughing so hard, he could barely stand up straight. He was sure he had protested when Sam pushed him into the passenger seat, taking the driver seat himself – Sam was the one with the gimpy arm, after all. He might have threatened to break Sam’s other arm, if his brother crashed the car, but, really, who could blame him?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At any rate, it did not seem as if Sam had driven long before stopping. They were still outside the town. Dean did not remember stopping at all. He must have been out of it by that point.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, what happened last night?” Dean wanted to know.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam rubbed a hand over his face. He still looked tired.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I drove until we got to a safe distance. Then I stopped. You were pretty out of it by then, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean nodded. He was feeling much better after several hours of sleep. He glanced at Sam.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So,” he said lightly. “I’m calling this a win.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam did not look too convinced.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I mean, there were victims,” he pointed out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean’s eyes narrowed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sam, what are you beating yourself up about this time? Brad was dead before we even came into town. And, if you’re talking about Alan – you know I don’t usually victim-blame, but he was visiting his mistress two nights after his son had heard his little brother be killed on the phone. I hate to say he had it coming, but Piru did the world a favor ridding the world of that sleazebag.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about Mikka?” Sam asked. “I mean, I talked to him before we knew what we were after. If only I’d have caught on that something was wrong with him…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean shook his head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He was dead the moment he decided to bind Piru, Sam. You know how these things go. Besides, he was ready to kill at least five people out of some misguided act of revenge – against the wrong target. We’ve got Elias and his band out of this safely. So, let’s take this as a win, alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam still did not look too convinced, and Dean wondered what it would take for his brother to stop beating himself up for every little thing that went wrong in the world.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about Piru?” he asked. “I mean – you heard what he said. He’s got allies back home. What if they find out what happened to him? What if they try to free him?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean’s face turned grim. He sat up and put his hands on the steering wheel, just to have something to focus on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let them try.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a few minutes, they were driving back to town, ready to take on whatever came as they always did – together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxxXXXXXxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam was in Mikka’s hotel room, packing up the occult objects Mikka had left behind. He had no idea how the cuffs used to bind Piru worked, but he was sure they could come in handy, taking into account all the things they dealt with. Besides, better they were safe in the Bunker, instead of in the hands of someone who had no idea how to use them. And that went for everything else in that room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, what are you going to do with all this?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam looked up to see Elias standing in the doorway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We have a safe place for it. We’ll make sure nothing here is a problem to someone again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias nodded and stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know how to thank you guys, really.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So you told me last night,” Sam said dismissively. “No thanks needed, really. Just doing our jobs.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias’s eyes roamed around the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you think I could have talked to Mikka?” he asked uncertainly. “If I figured out what was going on sooner, that he was connected to our run of bad luck, do you think reasoning with him would have stopped all this? There are three people dead, Mikka included. That’s on me, right?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam remembered his own conversation with Dean in the car. Somehow, it was easier to believe things had been beyond their control when someone else was taking the blame.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not on you,” he assured Elias. “It’s on Mikka. Even if you had figured out what he had done, it was too late. He had already bound Piru. You don’t mess with this kind of stuff.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias shrugged.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I understand him, though. In a way. I understand revenge. I had a lot of hatred for the British Men of Letters for a very long time for getting my family killed. I still do, but there was a time when I was really messed up. I was around sixteen, I was thinking there was something I could use against them. I even found a curse in one of my adoptive father’s old books. I came this close to using it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam tilted his head. He understood revenge, too. He remembered the Yellow-eyed demon and Lilith and all that had followed. He knew where revenge usually led, too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I take it you didn’t use it,” he said. “Why not?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias’s smile held something bitter in it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It came to me that they wouldn’t have wanted me to do that. My parents and my sister, they wouldn’t have been pleased. I had this revelation, you know. It was Christmas and I was listening to one of our carols. It’s about a girl who feeds a sparrow on Christmas morning, because, as she says, it’s cold and the sparrow is probably hungry. And the sparrow takes the seed and says: <em>I’m actually your dead little brother, and this seed you gave a hungry sparrow has fed your brother in Heaven.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias paused. Sam waited for him to finish.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s when it dawned on me,” Elias went on. “That it was up to me to make my family proud. To live in a way that they would have approved. That by doing this I would make sure they were at peace.” He paused and looked uncertainly at Sam. “Does that make sense?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam thought of him and Dean and their own reactions whenever one of them lost the other. He knew what Elias was doing was not easy – neither he nor Dean had quite managed to do it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It actually does. Keep on doing what you’re doing. It’s good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Helmi and the others have given me until the end of the tour to tell them what’s been happening,” he said, changing the subject. “What am I supposed to say?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam took the book of spells he had found in Mikka’s room the first time he was there and placed it in his duffel bag. The room looked inconspicuous now, all questionable paraphernalia taken care of.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How about the truth?” he said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You mean – tell them my ancestors used to hunt monsters and they nearly became the targets of a mythological spirit? How’s that gonna help?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You said they were family, right?” Sam pointed out. “Then they deserve the truth.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He hesitated briefly, then took out a piece of paper and wrote his phone number and e-mail address on it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is where you can reach me,” he told Elias. “You and anyone from the hunting community you might know back in Europe. We’ve got quite a hefty collection of lore books. If you need help and information, I’d be glad to give it to you. Like this you won’t have to rely so much on the British Men of Letters.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Elias broke into a grin. He took the piece of paper and pocketed it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks, really,” he said shaking Sam’s hand. “I hope I’ll see you guys again.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Most people don’t</em>, Sam thought, but he did not say it out loud. Elias seemed to have a different view of Hunters, even though he was not one himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>XXXxxxxxXXXXX</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean was packing up the car in front of the hotel, waiting for Sam to come out with Mikka’s stash of weird.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Leaving so soon?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean grinned and turned to Helmi.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know how it is. Always on the road. Never in one place too long.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sounds like my life. Apart from this fixing things that you do.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean heard the unasked question but chose to ignore it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, Elias OK?” he asked instead. “He kinda hit his head in a…erm…bus accident last night.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You mean when he crashed our bus?” Helmi asked innocently. “I <em>can </em>put two and two together, you know. But he’s fine. Shouldn’t probably attempt much headbanging in the next few days but otherwise, as he has firmly told me this morning, he doesn’t need his head to play.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean had to wonder if that was just Elias being a workaholic, or if he was looking for a distraction from his experience as Piru’s prisoner. But Dean knew he was definitely not the right person to lecture others on healthy ways of coping with trauma, so he decided to let it go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I should head back inside,” Helmi said eventually. “You two take care of yourselves, won’t you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dean shook her hand and then gave her his and Sam’s contact information on a whim.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We obviously can’t be of much help if you run into trouble back home. But if you ever find yourself on this side of the ocean again and something’s going on that doesn’t feel right…Sammy and I will be glad to help.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There were times when the job gnawed at Dean’s soul, exhausting him and shredding his humanity. There were times when it took away so much, brought him so low that he had no idea how he was still functioning. Then there were days like this one, when he could be sure he and Sam had done well. When he realized that they were exactly where they were meant to be not because of the many times they saved the world, but because of how often they saved individual people. Those were the days when Dean was happy with himself –when he knew it was worth it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>xxxXXXXXXXXxxxxxxx</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They got back to the Bunker early next evening, since Dean had insisted they stay for the last night of the festival and actually enjoy themselves for a change. Sam had not complained. It reminded him of the early days – just the two of them and no complications in sight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Castiel was still in the Bunker and looked up when he saw the two brothers walk down the stairs.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Dean, Sam,” he greeted. “How did it go?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, we’ve got one pissed off Finnish forest demon locked up for good in the woods in Gatlinburg,” Dean said. “I think it worked well.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam looked around him at their home base. He could not deny that it felt good, having a place of their own. But sometimes, he enjoyed being on the road with Dean more. Still, he would not begrudge his brother his desire to settle down from time to time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So, Cas,” Dean was saying. “Know anything about symphonic metal?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sam sniggered at the question, as he made his way to his room to unpack. He took his time, because he wanted to let Dean make whatever he had in mind for dinner and had no desire to be tricked into kitchen duty. He took out the <em>Apostles of Shadow </em>poster he had rolled up and placed at the bottom of his duffel bag and grinned. It was autographed by the band members and all. He had managed to snag one before the concert. He did not think Elias would mind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He placed the poster in his box of memories, where he kept all the things that reminded him of the good times. Despite still having some guilt that they had not managed to figure out what was going on in time to save Mikka, Sam was still willing to believe Dean when he said they had done the best they could. And they had managed to forge some connections, as well, maybe establish a link with European Hunters and that had to be a win too, right?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>With that thought in mind, Sam closed the door to his room and went to join Dean and Cas in the kitchen. They were going to have a quiet night in for once.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Until the next crisis came, of course. But, as long as he was facing it with Dean, Sam was not that bothered.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-The Christmas song Elias mentions is real. It’s a very beautiful carol called Varpunem Jouluaamuna (Sparrow on Winter morning). Lots of people I talked to who know the lyrics consider it creepy. I think it’s actually about dealing with loss through doing good to others. </p>
<p>There's a sequel in the works</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To be continued. Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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